


I didn't know where else to go

by runningwater



Series: Feysand Things [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cop! AU, F/M, Light BDSM, slight blood and beating mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwater/pseuds/runningwater
Summary: “Rhys…,” I rasped as I practically fell into his arms, painfully tensing for some lewd comment to spout from his unfairly full lips about how she was finally falling for him. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Series: Feysand Things [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607200
Comments: 90
Kudos: 351





	1. Feyre

**Author's Note:**

> Saw a Tumblr post about a good guy showing up at the bad guys' doorstep bloody and the bad guy takes care of them so naturally, I thought of Feyre and Rhys

My vision blurred in and out of focus, the street signs seemed to be written in a foreign language to me. Maybe they were, all the concepts of time and space were just out of my reach. Lead had replaced my tongue; sandpaper was now my throat. A faint ringing noise filled my ears. Was that coming from somewhere a few streets away or from the throbbing point in my skull?

It didn’t matter, as long as I could reach the door at the end of the alley of the next street.

A car passed, blinding headlights forced me to squeeze my eyes shut, tinting my eyelids red. Everything hurt so much, but all my senses were dulled around the edges.

The last thing I remembered was following up on a lead in some seedy bar. I only ordered a club soda from the bartender, but looking back, he knew exactly who I was there for. He was probably on his payroll.

My next flash of memory was someone was dragging me out back, blow after blow landing on my ribs, my face, my stomach. Until I couldn’t move. Whatever had been put in my drink had dulled every nerve and trapped me in the dark corners of my mind.

Hours or seconds could have passed me by, and I wouldn’t have noticed. Only when control began to return to me, I used the damp walls to pull myself up and began to stumble away from the place of torment.

 _Stupid stupid stupid._ I shouldn’t have gone without my partner. Lucien believed that I would be spending a quiet night at the precinct catching up on paperwork, but it was too tempting to check out the bar where he was suspected to hang out at.

Dark spots of blood dripped on the pavement wherever I walked if you could even call it a walk. Anyone who saw me would assume I was just drunk on a Wednesday. Some degenerate that you wouldn’t want to cross paths with. I had changed out of my uniform into street clothes in an attempt to hide in plain sight.

Turning the corner, the street I had somehow found was now stretching ahead of me, so close to where I know I could hide. It wouldn’t be too long for those who beat me up would return and find a trail of blood leading away from their crime scene.

I would try to staunch the blood if I knew where it was coming from, probably too many places. My hip slammed into a stair railing, rattling it and my bones, the cool metal biting my skin through my damp clothes.

_A little farther._

He didn’t know I knew where he lived. Careful tailing and surveillance over months finally revealed the location of Velaris’s most irreputable crime boss. The Lord of the Night some called him. The name was as pretentious as he was.

We brought him in once for questioning, but the prick knew we had nothing on him. He spent the whole time acting like he owned the place. And shamelessly flirting with me.

Lucien didn’t let that go for weeks. The guy we were trying to nail down for a score of crimes spent his entire time in my presence trying to nail me.

A snort escaped me, sending a stab of pain through my chest. I winced, sending another wave of pain through my face.

Why I was going to his place, disoriented, drugged and bloody?

Why was I putting my battered body at his mercy?

Why for weeks was I unable to get his violet eyes and midnight voice out of my head when I was the one trying to arrest him?

I wish I knew. It was probably the lack of inhibition from the sedative and pain.

His place was close to the bar and calling Lucien was out of the question. He seemed like a halfway decent person, when he wasn’t kidnapping researchers and breaking into warehouses. Someone that I could get coffee with and feel completely at ease with.

_Those assholes must have landed a hard blow for that thought to run through my mind._

Finally, the alley that led to his front doorstep appeared in front of me. And not a moment too soon because the last of my adrenaline was running out and the ground came closer with every step. Black and white stars flashed at the corner of my vision, almost blocking out the metal door that was only ten steps away.

I threw the last bit of strength I had into my muscles that were straining from abuse to carry me the rest of the way. Slumping against the brick that surrounded his door, I didn’t even bother lifting my fist, all I could do was lightly rap my knuckles against the frozen metal and pray that he was close enough to hear.

One

Two

Three

Seconds passed and he barely cracked the door open, violet eyes narrowed at whoever was disturbing his evening. When he saw me, blood oozing from who knows where and clutching my side, he flung the door open, automatically reaching to support me.

“Rhys…,” I rasped as I practically fell into his arms, painfully tensing for some lewd comment to spout from his unfairly full lips about how I was finally falling for him. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

The last thing I saw before I succumbed to the encroaching black was his eyes wild with fear and uncertainty.


	2. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall receive, I got myself in a bit too deep but it should wrap up next chapter!

fuck

_fuck_

**FUCK**

I had an unconscious detective on my couch and her blood on my hands.

It was a quiet evening, cleaning one of my guns with Friends reruns on in the background, shattered by a barely-there knock at my door. Ready to chew out whoever decided to disturb a crime boss on his night off, I had only cracked open the door to see her there, blood coming from a nasty cut on her head and practically bent in half from pain.

It was reflex to catch her as my name slipped from her mouth along with those damning words.

_“I didn’t know where else to go.”_

Feyre Archeron. The detective who was hell-bent on arresting me. Who had managed to resist my flirting, much to my chagrin. Who was now on my couch but not how I pictured it happening.

Why I couldn’t get a cop out of my head for the past few weeks? I wish I knew the answer.

I watched the even rise and fall of her chest, grateful that whatever had happened to her wasn’t truly life-threatening. At least that’s what I told myself as I waited for her to wake up.

Thankfully she stayed out cold while I stitched up her face, I was fresh out of painkillers from my recent injuries. The glorious life of the head of the underworld, if only they knew how much work it took, then maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with so many hot-headed insubordinates.

Whatever had happened to her probably warranted a hospital visit but no way was I showing up with my face all over the news and a bloody cop in my arms. I did as much as I could for her wound but didn’t risk checking the rest of her body. A small smile played on my mouth as I imagined the foul words that would surely come from her if she found her other injuries tended to.

A sharp intake of breath followed by a small whimper of pain cut through the TV in the background. I froze in the most non-threatening pose I could think of, crossing my left leg so that my ankle rested on my right knee and slinging an arm over the back of the chair, dangling the glass of dark amber liquid that was keeping my nerves in check.

Feyre’s eyes cracked open, even surrounded by darkening bruises, the intense blue-grey still made my breath catch in my throat.

“How is it you always look like you own the world? Even in Deadpool PJ pants?”

A startled laugh barked out of my chest, the bourbon nearly splashing out of my glass with the sudden movement. In my haste to patch her up and unwillingness to leave her alone, I hadn’t changed out of the comfy clothes I had put on as soon as I stepped through my door.

“Years and years of practice, darling.” _There it is_ , the fire returned as her eyes became clearer, taking in the room.

From the outside, my apartment didn’t look like much, all cold stone and steel. The inside was much more hospitable, warm wood floors nicely complemented the exposed brick, tasteful furniture that you could relax in took up most of the space. The harshest part of the room was the wall that was covered in guns, big and small and a few illegal in the country, but I liked to live on the wrong side of the law.

Open curiosity rested on her face, making her look years younger than the small frown that was there most of the time. It returned when she took in the weapons, reminding her that she showed up to her suspects' house and promptly passed out, leaving her at his mercy. She forced herself to sit up despite the obvious pain that would linger for weeks, her face guarded again.

I found myself immediately missing the side that she hid from me, where she was an actual human and not someone out to destroy all my plans.

We regarded each other silently for a few moments, taking in the other in their current state until she blushed and looked away.

A few words mumbled from her mouth, too low and unintelligible for me to understand.

“I’m sorry, what was that, _darling_ ,” using the nickname she so clearly hated.

“Thank you, prick,” she spat out, wincing at how her muscles pulled at her stitches.

“You’re welcome,” I leaned forward, “but who did this to you?” putting as much concern as I could into my voice.

“I’m surprised you don’t know; it was your men that drugged me and had me beaten.”

The accusation was a slap to the face, my teeth gritting at the venom she threw at me. “My men would never fucking do this to anyone, cop or not.”

Her eyes burned, leaning forward much as her balance allowed until we were only inches apart.

“I went to the bar I know you frequent; the bartender gave me a club soda laced with something and the next thing I knew, some assholes were dragging me out back and kicking the shit out of me. Who else would have given orders like that?”

I forced my breathing to stay even, to not grab her and shake some sense into her. For all the crimes I had committed, not one single fucking person had been harmed in the process. Was she willfully ignoring that fact or was she so convinced that I was a truly evil motherfucker?

“Did you recognize any of them?” My question caught her off guard.

Her eyes flicked up, trying to sort through recent hazy memories. “No…”

“That’s what I thought. You’ve been after me and my organization for months, I’m sure you have every one of my peoples’ faces memorized. So why did you think that I would have such a lovely, dedicated, hardworking civil servant drugged and beaten?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, having the grace to look ashamed as she leaned back into the soft couch cushions, attempting to rearrange herself into the least painful position.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have any painkillers, and I’m not sure where else you’re hurt, I didn’t check.”

“It’s fine, it’s my fault for showing up on your doorstep anyways.” She lifted her shirt, carefully picking at where dried blood had plastered it to her chest. A patchwork of black and blue was settling on the skin, but no lacerations at least.

“I don’t think anything is broken, just really fucking sore,” she surveyed, taking in the damage. I was too worried about her injuries to notice the black bra edged with lace that perfectly hinted at the curve of her breasts.

Ok maybe I was worried, but it didn’t completely escape my notice.

I almost whined when she dropped her shirt but managed to contain it as she settled deeper into the cushions. She froze, realizing that she was getting too comfy at basically her arch enemy’s place.

“I need to go,” but she stood up too quickly, swaying and unable to catch herself as she pitched to the side, heading straight for the solid corner of my end table.

By the grace of the Caldron and a bit of luck, I managed to catch her, pulling her close to me to steady us both. She let out a yelp at the handling, but it was her fault for trying to move too fast with her injuries.

“That’s twice I’ve caught you, would you like to make this a habit?” I purred, my mouth on the shell of her ear completely ~~not~~ by accident.

A shudder she couldn’t suppress or hide skittered down her back, slightly arching her body into mine.

All too soon her reason returned to her and with a surprisingly firm shove, she distanced herself from me and promptly plopped back onto the couch, refusing to acknowledge the electricity that just flowed between us.

“ _Prick_ ,” she seethed.

“Don’t say what you don’t want.”

Confusion that morphed into fury consumed her. “If I wasn’t so fucking injured, I would kick your ass right now.”

“You’ll have to give me a rain check then,” parting my lips in a feline smirk. She blushed even harder and looked away, looking utterly pissed that she couldn’t leave.

“Would you like a glass of bourbon? I promise it’s not drugged or anything, and it’s much better than what they serve at that bar. And it will ease the pain a bit.”

“Fine.”

I wove fluidly around a chair to the bar cart that was tucked into the corner next to the TV that was still somehow playing the aimless show when much more interesting content was playing out right in my living room.

I poured her a generous knuckle worth of the expensive liquor, maybe this would make up for the lack of painkillers. Hopefully whatever she was given was enough out of her system that it wouldn’t react badly.

I returned with the drink in hand, passing it to her waiting hand, she still refused to make eye contact with me. 

This was too good of a situation to mess with her. I sat in the middle of the couch, forcing her to either stay where she is, contact points connecting up the sides of our bodies, or to move to cram into the corner closest to the TV, making her crane her neck to see the screen.

She chose the latter and decided upon ignoring me as much as possible with less than a foot of space between us.

We sipped our drinks, intermittently paying attention to the show, punctuated with our derisive snorts at the characters' shallow problems.

At some point, a comment was made, leading us into a conversation about what we hated and loved about this show or that. Sharing new series, daring each other to watch them in our little free time.

The alcohol loosened our tongues and worries about the other ulterior motives, simply existing in the moment.

She was incredible. So amazingly opinionated and alive and passionate. If she had seen something he had, she questioned his every motive for liking or disliking it. If she hadn’t seen it, endless questions poured from her mouth and promised to watch it soon.

Hours ticked by and more liquor was poured. The show completely ignored, our bodies had turned toward each other, knees grazing, and body heat slowly being shared. She laughed at something, I’m not even sure what I said, too caught up in the music she made.

Once she stopped giggling, I couldn’t bring myself to continue the conversation. I could stay here for hours, simply taking in the red that graced her cheeks, highlighting the freckles that were gently dusted there. Her eyes seemed to shift between blue and grey depending on her current emotion, full lips punctuating every statement.

Those lips in question parted. We were so close now, her legs practically slung across my lap, her arm across the back of the couch, brushing against mine often.

The lapse in chatter grew, neither of us attempting to restart it.

Watching.

Waiting.

Until

One of us moved forward, only the Caldron and its forgotten gods knew who moved first.

Careful to not put too much pressure on her injuries, I cupped her face in my hands, molding my lips around hers.

Just as I had too often fantasized, they were soft and fit perfectly with mine, the sharp taste of my bourbon tinting them with dark desire.

There was no hesitation on her part, only enthusiasm. If she was in pain, there was no sign of it now.

Soon it became too uncomfortable for our bodies to stay far apart with only our heads meeting in the middle. I slid my hands down her neck, coming to gently rest on the curve of her waist, a request she responded to with straddling my hips, effectively sealing her fate and mine.

We were both so, so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Feyre, what would Lucien think if you were hooking up with a criminal?


	3. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The first thing that came back to me was pain. Dull, throbbing pain everywhere. Deep in my muscles and throughout my head. I couldn’t tell if it was the possible mild concussion or the hangover that made opening my eyes so hard.

_A hangover._

I forced my eyes all the way open, wincing back from the bright light that found its way through the curtains. My movement had me pressing into something warm and large that tightened its grip on me.

That _thing_ was Rhysand fucking Noc.

I slept with Rhysand **_fucking_** Noc. The crime boss I was currently trying to put behind bars for life.

And it was the best sex of my life.

_Fuck._

He mumbled something in his sleepy state, somehow pulling me even closer when there was already no space between us. His breath fanned over my neck, sending shivers that traveled down my body into my core. Shivers that woke him up just barely.

“Good morning, darling, did you sleep well?” he managed to get out, voice rough from last night activities.

I froze, my brain unable to make me move or think or breathe.

He felt me go still and shifted so that he was leaning over me, balancing on his forearms. The pressure he exerted on me finally went away, my bruises sang and protested at the lack of contact. I finally returned to my body, air whooshing out of my lungs.

If I had morning breath, he showed no sign of noticing it, and that was enough to set me off.

How dare he look so damn good in the morning?

How dare he take care of me in my injured state?

How dare he.

 _Even though you were the one to show up on his doorstep last night_.

To shove that thought away, I took it out on him. My self-defense training took over, wrapping one leg to hook behind his knee.

His eyes sparked with violet fire, leaning down in response to what he thought was me trying to pull him closer.

In actuality, I was about to flip him on his ass.

Just before his lips met mine, I placed my hands on his shoulders and bucked my hips up, throwing his balance to the left so that I was able to land him flat on his back with me holding him down. He might have had several inches on me, but I had years of training against guys twice my size. It was almost too easy to keep him pinned down; bewildered eyes boring into mine.

The words “I’m leaving” were on the tip of my tongue and promptly died there when I realized that we were both completely naked. A flush burned its way across my face and down my neck when I felt him twitch under me. At least he had the decency to look mildly embarrassed at our compromised conditions.

Not trusting myself to stay on task, I climbed off of him and turned my back, searching the room for my clothes. When I felt a hand graze my neck, I launched myself on the edge and practically sprinted to the bathroom, grabbing clothes as I went.

The door slammed shut behind me, I twisted the lock for a good measure and held my breath. There was no sound of movement from the other side, I slowly released it and dropped my clothes on the counter, assessing what I had managed to grab.

It was not a pretty or comforting sight; my underwear and bloodied shirt was all that was in the room. Which means that I had been drunk enough last night to strip elsewhere until we made it to the bed.

Lucien was going to have this carved onto my gravestone when I died of my captain skinning me over this. I’ve had my fair share of awkward morning afters but this one really took the cake.

“Feyre? Can we just talk?” came his voice. It sounded distressed but I tried not to read into it too much.

“I left some clean clothes on the bed that I think will fit, I’ll be downstairs.”

I waited until I heard his footsteps retreat and thump down the stairs. I released the breath I had been holding. I needed to stop before I passed out and bring on a whole other mess.

Forcing myself to breathe evenly through my nose, I cracked the door open and peeked out the make sure he had truly gone.

He had laid a soft old t-shirt and sweats, both being too big for me but it was better than walking around half-naked while collecting the rest of my clothing.

I tied the sweats as tightly as possible to stop them from slipping and began to creep down the hallway and stairs. If he was distracted and if I was careful enough, I could get past him and from there I would be home free.

He was in the kitchen facing away from me, messing with something by the stove. The smell of coffee, bacon, and toast made my stomach growl, my own body giving my position away.

My mind ran through every curse word I knew, none of them strong enough for the situation.

Rhys had at least thrown on pants but neglected to put on a shirt. Tattoos that I had somehow forgotten about flowed up and over his shoulders. Delicate red lines crisscrossed his back, the spacing exactly matching my fingers.

 _I fucking scratched him._ _What the fuck is wrong with me. I_ _need to get out of here now._

I started to turn towards the living room, hoping there was still a chance to make a clean getaway when his voice washed over me.

“I’m not who you think I am, Feyre.”

It sounded tired, exhausted, world-weary. Like he had seen too much and never got the rest he deserved.

I turned back to him, analyzing his posture. He stayed facing away from me, hands braced on the counter, head bowed as if a great weight rested on his shoulders. Like a fallen angel that you saw painted on church ceilings.

“What do you know about me?” he continued.

I hesitated, caught between wanting to know what he meant and getting out of there. Curiosity took over, driving my feet forward to the kitchen.

“Rhysand Noc. Thirty-two. Head of the Veritas Crime Syndicate. Street name: Lord of the Night.” I had repeated this information every time at countless briefings, his profile was burned into my memory. His frustratingly _blank_ profile.

“Your second in command is Amren Monsea, followed by Morrigan Solis. Cassian Noc and Azriel Noc are your adopted brothers, they train your men and generally do your dirty work.” And that was the end of what I knew, it was impossible to get information out of anyone, what we knew had come to us by common knowledge and pure luck. His men were ridiculously tight-lipped and loyal, making us ask what the fuck they were so loyal to.

“And why do you think I’m a criminal? Why do you think I do what I do?”

The words were hard to admit, “I don’t know.”

He released a sigh of his own, finally turning towards me. I forced my eyes to stay on his face, trying to read the emotions in it and not get distracted by how the tattoos continued down his chest. I knew I would never be able to get them out of my head until I painted or at least sketched them. Another piece of cannon fodder for Lucien.

“All of that is right, except that Amren and Mor are family too, Cas and Az are the only on paper ones.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. He handed me a cup of coffee and gestured to the cream and sugar that was on the counter next to me. Once I had fixed it to my liking, I took a seat at one of the barstools by the sink, putting a counter between us. It was easier to distance myself from him so that I wouldn’t get too caught up in his story.

“I’m not from Velaris, if my accent wasn’t any indication. Me and my family come from a small country across the world,” then quietly, “it doesn’t exist anymore.

“My parents were private people, wealthy enough that my brothers and I never had to worry about anything. Mor is my cousin on my fathers’ side, Amren is some distant aunt but she’s always been around. Every childhood has its problems, but for the most part, I was happy. We were all… happy.” The sadness in his voice twisted my heart, making me dread what was coming next.

“It all started out very small, random attacks in towns on the border. We knew we were surrounded by warring countries, but they rarely bothered us. But then people started getting sick, a disease that none of our doctors had ever heard of. It killed so many so fast, our government worked to keep it from the outside world, afraid that the other countries would take advantage of our weakness but also afraid of it spreading across the globe. Through harsh military force, we sealed our borders and tried to let the disease run its course.

“Our researchers did their best to find a cure or vaccine, but it was just too devastating of a disease.”

A deep breath racked his chest.

“One night, my parents rushed into my room, demanding me to pack only the necessities. My mother went to my brothers’ rooms, asking the same of them. My father stayed behind, and as he helped me pack, he explained what was really going on in the country.

“Even though he was not involved in politics, he had several friends that were. They were all saying that the attacks were not random and that the disease was a bioweapon. The Queen of Hybern named Amarantha Bast had set her sights on ours.

“She was determined to bring us to our knees and then annex our country into hers. It was some bullshit vendetta passed down in her family. She was cutthroat, bloodthirsty, driven almost to madness by her mission. She staged a coup within our government so that she could easily swoop in to take over.

“It was that night that the coup was happening, there was bloodshed in the streets and fires breaking out, it was chaos. My father said that Amren was taking me, my brothers and Mor out of the country, to somewhere safe. I didn’t understand why he and my mother weren’t coming with us, I still don’t to this day.

“The last time I saw them was through a darkened car window as we drove toward the border, away from my collapsing country. I was 15.”

Tears burned in the back of my eyes, but I was determined to not let them fall. His tragic backstory did not absolve him of the crimes that he committed in my city.

The story wasn’t over yet. “Somehow, Amarantha managed to keep the whole ordeal quiet to the world news, only a few statements saying that they had peacefully absorbed my country into hers due to unstable economic conditions and the disease. Everyone forgot about it and moved onto the next piece of gossip.

“Me and my surviving family never forgot. Mor’s parents and mine managed to transfer the majority of their wealth to outside shell companies so that we would be able to continue to live in ease. Amren had all of our names legally changed so that no one would come hunting us from escaping Amarantha’s wrath. That’s why you can’t find any official records on us, they’re either all buried back in my home country or you don’t know the name that you’re looking for.”

A twinge of frustration plucked at my nerves, of course a crime boss wouldn’t use their real name.

“This still doesn’t explain why you’ve been kidnapping people and raiding warehouses,” I accused, trying to stay in my detective mindset.

“A year ago, I got word that she was seen in Velaris, that she had set her sights on taking this city and then the country. That’s when my family and I decided that we would come here and fight back. We knew that the police and government wouldn’t believe a small group of rich people, especially when they came out of nowhere from a country that no longer exists. History had forgotten us, but we haven’t forgotten what she did.

“Our money made it easy to establish a foothold in the underworld and gain supply lines there. We want to try and avoid all-out bloodshed but we’re preparing for the worst. The people that we have taken are researchers in immunology, disease control, and drug development, all top in their field. They are being cared for in a safe facility. They aren’t too happy about it but some of them were quite excited by the challenge of a new disease.” A small chuckle broke through his serious demeanor. “We have them trying to find a cure and/or a vaccine but it’s slow going right now.”

“The warehouses we were raiding was us looking for any supplies we thought she was shipping in for preparation. We did manage to find some crates of weapons but nothing that indicated she was preparing for a bioattack, and that’s somehow more troubling.

“The past few months you’ve been after us have made it hard to move around, so I’ll give you that. You’re a good detective by the way.”

“Thanks, but it seems I’ve somehow been doing a shitty job of it.”

“Don’t get yourself too down, you were good enough to get the whole story in the past few minutes, I’d say that’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah by showing up bloody and then sleeping with you,” I blurted. _Whoops._

He flushed at the reminder, looking away. “Well I hope it wasn’t completely insufferable for you to do your civic duty then,” he muttered, almost sounding upset at the thought that he got used for information.

Fuck, “It was far from the worst night of my life, I’ll give you that,” I admitted. His earnest retelling somehow made me too honest for my own liking. I needed to get out of his radius before I did something stupid again.

He gave a faint smile at my statement, looking slightly redeemed.

“Anytime, _darling_ ,” he teased, trying to shake off the awkward silence that was settling around us like a heavy blanket.

I let out a small, exasperated sigh at the nickname, looks like it wasn’t going away anytime soon. I stayed silent, absorbing the new information while he turned back to the stove, putting on more bacon to fry.

I wasn’t about to stick around to have morning after breakfast with my enemy who was maybe no longer my enemy, I’ll have to figure that out soon before it drove me insane.

Spotting my pants _draped_ over the coffee table (ugh), I padded over to pick them up in which revealed my bra (shit) and then, in turn, revealed my phone (fuck). It thankfully still had some battery in it, the screen flashing with 11 text messages and 3 missed calls from Lucien.

_Running late today, huh?_

_Captain’s not here yet so you might get away with it._

_Never mind he just showed up._

_Hey if you’re getting coffee, grab me a white mocha?_

_Feyre? You ok?_

**_Missed call._ **

_Are you sick today? I know you stayed late at the office._

_The desk sergeant said you left only an hour after me, where did you go?_

**_Missed call._ **

_Oooooo captain is getting angry, hurry your ass up, I don’t want to deal with him._

_Seriously tho, where did you go last night?_

_Oh some hot date you want to surprise me with?_

**_Missed call._ **

_If you don’t call me back in the next 10 minutes, I’m putting an APB out on you._

That last one was from 9 minutes ago. I pressed the call button, he answered on the second ring.

“There you are! Where the fuck are you?”

“Hey Luc, it’s been a rough night. I’ll explain to you when I get to the precinct.”

“Uh-huh, ok, well you don’t have to tell me.”

“I’m serious, I’ll be there in less than an hour, I need to go home, shower and change.”

“So you DID have a hot date last night, knew it.”

I cringed, looking over to where Rhys was trying very hard to look like he was not listening.

“Something like that, look I gotta go, I’ll deal with the captain when I get back.”

“Whatever you say, see you soon.”

He ended the call and the screen went black, there went the rest of the battery.

“I need to leave.”

“Ok, you can borrow the shirt, unless you want to take the subway in the bloody one,” he teased.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not really in the mood to be poked at when I was already in so much trouble.

“Sure, thank you.”

I gathered up my belongings to go change. When I came back down, he had wrapped some bacon and toast in foil so I can eat it along the way. Considerate motherfucker.

“So, are you going to help me?”

I paused, shocked at his question.

“What?” I whispered.

“Are you going to help me stop Amarantha?”

I took him in, looking for any hint of anything other the sincerity, and found none. Every logical part of my brain said _no_ , to not believe what he had told me and to haul him in over the confession. He had given me enough to hold him on until I had a warrant to search his place. I know that some of those guns on the wall weren’t legal in Prythian.

But I couldn’t say no. The threat of her was too great, even if he was making it all up. If I stayed close to him, I could gather evidence to arrest him if he was lying. I was smart enough to stay safe, as long as I didn’t get drunk and sleep with him again.

“Yes. I’ll help you take down Amarantha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not planning on writing anymore, I don't really have any ideas. If y'all wake up to a new chapter someday, it's because I woke up in a cold sweat with more story.  
> For more Feysand, check out my other works! Love y'all <3


	4. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back, bitches! No promise of a consistent update schedule but I've fleshed out the story a bit so it's not completely directionless now.
> 
> To better imagine what the precinct looks like, I used the Brooklynn 99 layout. Feyre sits in Jake’s spot and Lucien in Amy’s. If you haven’t watched the show, I highly recommend it!

_Prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick_

Only by chanting that word over and over again in my head did I manage to make it home to change and then to the precinct without grinding my teeth too hard. I was late to work, beat to hell, and oh, had just slept with the guy I was trying to arrest and am now secretly working with him. Lucien is going to have a fucking field day.

 _But he can’t know anything about the past 24 hours,_ I reminded myself, resolving to lie my ass off. My jaw instinctively tightened, pulling the sore muscles which caused me to wince and make it hurt even more. _Stupid thugs_.

I spared a minute back in Rhysand’s home to look over my injuries from the night before. Dark bruises covered most of my torso but no broken ribs, at least. My face was a mottled canvas of greens and blues and blacks with a laceration on my hairline. How the hell I had managed to have the best sex of my life while this injured… blame it on the alcohol. Along with all my other decisions, I guess. The hangover didn’t help my state either, but Rhys’s packed breakfast of bacon and toast soaked up some of the acid in my stomach.

_Prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick prick_

Finally, the precinct came into view. Simple black letters on white background indicated the entrance.

**Velaris City Police Precinct No. 12**

The towering brick building housed my coworkers and I, along with countless generations before us.

 _Let’s get this over with._ I pushed in the glass doors, shooting a small wave to the front desk, hoping they were too busy to notice my bruised face.

The rickety ride up the elevator to the third floor was a comforting familiarity, the tang of sweat and metal stinging my nose. Too soon, the door opened to the bustling room, officers buzzing about on their daily grind. A flash of red caught the sunlight from the far end. Lucien was spinning around in his chair, his aburn hair like liquid fire in the light.

 _Someone is bored without me_.

Pushing through the gate, I avoided casting my usual hellos in a vain attempt to slip by unnoticed. It almost worked until a booming voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Detective Archeron, why are you almost two hours late?”

**_Shit_ **

I slowly turned towards the source, keeping my head low. “Sorry, Captain Cartana,” I said, “I had a rough night. I’ll stay late today to make up for it.” _Please let me go, please let me go, please let me—_

“What happened to you face?” the words were soft, compassionate, worried. Helion Cartana could be a harsh captain when he wanted to but he genuinely cared for the well-being of his staff.

I braved a look up into his face, gaging the emotions there. Frustration at my tardiness was fading into a quiet rage. Not at me, but for who presumably did this to me. His amber eyes turned molten, making my fingers itch to pick up a paintbrush and capture their unholy violence.

“Ah...,” my mind scrambling. _Truth or lie, lie or truth. Both._ “I was on my way home from grabbing a drink and three men got the jump on me. Bunch of jackasses who got off on beating someone up. Didn’t even make it worth my while by trying to steal my phone or wallet.” The shallow attempt at humor fell flat when it failed to dispel Helion’s rage.

Most of the floor had fallen silent at this point, monitoring the captain, ready to jump into action if he ordered it.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” his voice was still soft, his hand hovering near my shoulder.

I straightened my spine and met his eyes with quiet steel of my own. “No, it looks worse than it actually is,” only a tiny lie, I was stiffer than I wanted to admit.

“I want the report on my desk in an hour,” and that was it. He strode back to his office, barking orders to get back to work.

I didn’t meet any of the eyes that were still staring at me, I didn’t want to see the pity that might be there. I didn’t deserve it.

“I rescind my texts about the hot date,” Lucien appeared at my right, taking in my appearance. “Why didn’t you call me?”

I blew out a breath, “Because I’m a proud bitch and didn’t want to bother you. Like I said, it looks worse than it is,” I made the brush past him, but his hand lashed out and gripped my elbow. I winced at the force and then inwardly cursed at the show of pain.

“Liar,” he hissed, pissed that I would try to pull the wool over his eyes. He was always too good at telling when someone was lying. Great for being a detective but shit when you needed to hide things from your friend.

I shot a glare at him and he let my elbow go. I hadn’t fooled him, but we had other matters to attend to right now. His answering glare meant that I was going to get hell from him later.

I settled into my chair and started pulling up files. On top of the Veritas Crime Syndicate, I had my usual cases of homicide, burglaries, hit and runs, and other assorted goodies. I put the file on Veritas to the side, not even wanting to think about them at the moment, even with the new information to chew on now.

 _Might as well fill out my attack report for the captain now._ The basic form was an easy way to settle into the workday and allowed me to get my story straight before any more pressing questions came my way.

I went to a bar that was a few blocks from my house, got a drink, and when I exited, there were three men that I wasn’t able to make out that jumped me and beat me. The lie was believable enough because my apartment _was_ in a seedier part of town, the best I could afford on a detective’s salary while also feeding my painting habit.

I could feel Lucien’s eyes burning a hole in my forehead, but I diligently ignored him, focusing on the screen in front of me.

When it was done and believably passable, I printed it off and knocked on Helion’s doorframe.

“Captain?”

He motioned for me to come in and place the paper on his desk. I remained standing, waiting for his dismissal.

He looked over the form, frowning at what was probably my lack of caution and inability to identify the men. Cases like these were becoming more common. Darkness made men bold, making it easy for them to cower behind its cover. Gang and criminal activity seemed to be on the rise, frustrating precincts all over the city and forcing the police to start pulling more overtime shifts to compensate.

 _Maybe this is because of Amarantha setting her eyes on my city._ Icy rage began to sluice through my body at the thought. I would have to ask Rhys if her presence also encouraged more criminal activity.

The captain looked up, again taking in my injuries and how I held myself. One sleek eyebrow raised, starting to not believe my lie about not needing the hospital.

“And you’re sure you didn’t see their faces?” he asked.

“No, sir. It was too dark, and they were too quick. I…,” _shit, might as well_ , “I may have had more than one drink, sir,” wincing at the words.

He only nodded, maybe a slight amount of judgment peeking through. “Very well, investigate as you see necessary.” He looked down at the reports on his desk, a clear dismissal.

 _Now to pass the next hurdle._ Lucien will not be as easy to convince.

Once at my desk again, I started sifting through the new cases on my desk, sorting them by importance, and marking any that might be a lead into Veritas by pure habit. Lucien was doing the same at his desk across from me, making a point to ignore me.

“Sorry I couldn’t grab you a white mocha,” I tested out, looking for a way to break the tension. His amber eyes met mine. Cool anger regarded me for a moment, as if he was deciding to either let it go or press on.

I guess my bruised state gave him an inch of pity and a small smile slipped through his mask. “It’s tragic but I think I’ll live.” I returned his smile, glad that he wasn’t completely upset with my lie.

My phone buzzed, drawing my attention away from Lucien’s forgiveness.

 **_Prick:_ ** _Should I assume your bloody shirt is forfeit and throw it away or do you want it back?_

My jaw tightened at the message that flashed on my screen, causing more pain to ripple through my face. I just wasn’t learning my lesson about that, was I?

 **_Darling:_ ** _What. The fuck._

 **_Prick:_ ** _Personally, I would like to keep it as a reminder of the time you showed up on my doorstep begging for my help._

 **_Darling:_ ** _First of all, I wasn’t begging. Second of all, how the fuck did your number end up in my phone._

 **_Prick:_ ** _I put it in when you were passed out on my couch. Thought it might be useful for instances like this._

 **_Prick:_ ** _I guess you’re right that you weren’t begging, that came later ;)_

 _I am going to kill him the next time I see him,_ the thought burned through my mind. I schooled my features into forced neutrality. I was already up shit creek and didn’t need Lucien asking about who I was texting that was making me see red.

I decided to ignore his flirting, already resolved to never make _that_ mistake again.

 **_Darling:_ ** _Burn it, I don’t need any reminders from last night._

A bit harsh but I needed to get it through his thick ~~handsome~~ skull that last night was never going to happen **again.**

 **_Prick:_ ** _I think I’ll keep it then, if you care so little for it._

 **_Darling:_ ** _Fine._

I thought that was the end of the conversation, about to toss my phone in my bag and try to salvage the rest of my workday. Another text came through just before I tucked it away.

 **_Prick:_ ** _The actual reason I’m texting is that I wanted to invite you to dinner. If you’re going to help me stop Amarantha, I need you to meet the rest of my family._

The message caused me to pause, a war igniting in my mind. He was right about me needing to meet the others, they could be useful assets. But I also didn’t want to have any contact that was more than necessary.

 **_Prick:_ ** _Feel free to say no, but I think you’ll hurt Mor’s feelings._

I typed out several messages, each longer than the last and filled with questions before settling for short and simple. The time for questions would be later.

 **_Darling:_ ** _When and where? Not public._

 **_Prick:_ ** _My place, tomorrow night, 7:30_

 **_Darling:_ ** _I’ll be there._

And just because I couldn’t resist, damn him.

 **_Darling:_ ** _I’m not changing your name in my phone._

 **_Prick:_ ** _I wouldn’t have it any other way._

For a minute after that text, his bubbles popped up and down, like he was debating if he wanted to send a follow-up. I inwardly smirked at his indecision; it was nice to know that he wasn’t completely infallible.

 **_Prick:_ ** _Do you want to know what your name is in mine?_

This was getting dangerously close to flirting territory, damn him twice.

 **_Darling:_ ** _Detective? Bitch? Feyre?_

His response wasn’t immediate, and I had almost given up and gone back to work when it popped up.

 **_Prick:_ ** _Darling_

I stifled a groan and finally tossed my phone away, done with hearing his midnight voice in my head. He can interpret my lack of response any way he wants to, I have actual work to do.


	5. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that updates won’t be regular… but I hope a long one makes up for it

“Alright, Feyre, it’s Friday night, what clubs are we hitting up?” Lucien perched on my desk, nudging me with his knee.

“Home,” I said, not breaking eye contact with the screen, closing out my windows for the day.

“What?” he exclaimed, “Lame. Come out with me.”

“No, I want to go home and lick my wounds,” adding a tinge of frustration to my tone _. Please buy the lie._

“Then I’ll join you,” he offered, readying himself to leave.

 _Shit._ “No, you should go out,” I insisted, “What about texting that girl…,” I racked my brain for her name, “Vassa.”

Lucien turned an embarrassing shade of red and shifted uncomfortably. I quirked an eyebrow, finally turning towards him. It was easier to lie to Lucien when he was the one being interrogated.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, still not meeting my eyes.

“Mmmhhmmm,” I hummed, “It’s unlike you to back down from a challenge.”

“I’m not backing down,” he blurted, wincing at the volume of his voice. “I’m not backing down,” he repeated. “I’m just…”

I barked a laugh; it was rare to see his so unbalanced when it came to women. I patted him reassuringly on the knee. “Text her, go out tonight. Trust me, she was into you last I saw.”

“Because you’re all-knowing when it comes to dating?” he retorted. I knew exactly who he was referring to.

“Not cool,” I shot back at him. Lucien knew why Tamlin and I broke up, supported it even though Tamlin was Lucien’s best friend.

“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, having the good sense to look sheepishly apologetic.

“It’s fine,” I said, shaking off the memories. “It’s far in the past.” I smiled to show him that the barb didn’t dig in deep. “Text her.” I patted him one more time on the knee and then gathered up my jacket and bag. “And text _me_ tomorrow morning with the tea.”

“Asshole,” he muttered.

“Sorry?” I cupped my hand around my ear, leaning in, “What was that?”

“Asshole,” he said louder but with a grin that told me that I won.

We walked towards the elevator together, calling out our goodbyes for the weekend. On the brief ride down, I snuck a glance over at Lucien who was preoccupied with typing, and then deleting, a text message.

“You are ridiculous,” I growled, swiping his phone away.

“Hey!” he yelped, using his taller frame to lean over me and try and grab his phone back. I shoved my shoulder into his chest, muscling him away. Lucien may have the height advantage but that had never stopped me. He huffed a grunt and the pressure lessened on me.

I typed out a short and simple message and handed his phone back.

“’Haven’t seen you in a while, want to grab dinner?’” he read out loud. “Really, Feyre,” practically whining my name, “Could you have been any more direct?”

“You’re welcome,” I said, nodding towards to new message that buzzed.

He grumbled his thanks, not looking very grateful. We stepped out of the elevator, him now hunched over his phone, firing off back and forth with her. The fresh autumn air greeted us, blowing us in different directions. Lucien waved a brief goodbye, now completely engrossed in conversation. _Well that got him off my back for the night._

I checked my watch. _7:00, barely enough time to get to dinner at Rhys’s._

The subway was packed with young and old, most commuting home for the night, but some were already dressed for an evening out, ready to take advantage of Velaris’s many restaurants and night clubs. If I hadn’t been such a dumbass and gotten the shit beaten out of me, I would be a part of that crowd with Lucien.

We’d both met when we were beat cops, starting out fresh from the academy. Our first impressions of each other were… not good. He had been closed off and sullen, no more than a boy who had finally escaped his fathers’ thumb. Beron Vanserra was notorious in Velaris for being one of the top corporate lawyers. Had his own practice run by him and his sons. All except one. I made the mistake of recognizing his last name and mouthing off some comment about being a coddled rich boy. It was enough that he snarled in my face, telling me that I had no right to make assumptions about his life. The ugly shouting match that followed had earned us a joint night patrol for six months. Helion stated that if we had that much energy to fight with each other, we had enough energy to take the overnight shift.

It wasn’t until the last month of the rotation that we finally bonded over midnight tacos and coffee. He shared the pressures of being the son of a cruel and corrupt father, the only one of seven brothers who didn’t fall in line. I told him of how my mother was murdered when I was young, leaving me to try to keep my father and sisters moving forward. I joked that it was a cliché reason to become a cop but Lucien stopped me.

_“I saw how my father treated my mother when no one else was around. I wanted to become someone who had the authority to help those that can’t,” his eyes were hard with hatred, but tears threatened the edges of them._

We’d both realized that we had wretched childhoods and could do more good working together. Helion saw the change in our relationship and made us permanent partners, giving us a small nod of fatherly approval at our friendship. Four years later and we both got promoted to detective.

It was hard to hide what had happened with Rhys, and that I was now working with him. Not only hard because Lucien was a bloodhound with lies, but also because he was my best friend and I hated lying to him.

I took a deep breath to shake myself out of the bitter turn my mind had taken. I doubled checked my map, nearly missing the stop I had to get off of.

The walk to Rhys’s place had my shoulders tense, every sound sharped my wariness. I didn’t know if those men from two nights ago were around and ready to finish the job.

Turning into his alley allowed me to relax fractionally against my better judgment. I was walking into the lair of my enemy to have dinner with him and his family to discuss how to bring down a different enemy that I know nothing about. _I don’t want to know how many laws I’m breaking right now._

I knocked on the door, its hollow metallic noise carrying through the space beyond. To my surprise, the noise of a scuffle and irritated voices answered. My hand twitched to my gun holstered at my hip, a reflex well-trained into me. I widened my stance, ready to burst through the door or fight whoever was about to come through.

Rhys flung the door open, still glaring at whoever was behind him before turning to me. “Feyre, darling. Welcome back. Could you look any more like a cop right now?”

I relaxed my stance, letting my hand slide from my gun, “Fuck off.”

His mouth split into a wide grin, delight lighting his eyes. He gestured for me to enter with a flourish, causing me to roll my eyes. I stepped inside, scanning for the source of the scuffle that had happened moments before.

“Hi!” a bright voice startled me from behind. I turned on my heel, coming face to face with a blonde who was maybe three inches away. Before I had a chance to either back away or introduce myself, I was enveloped in a tight hug.

“Rhys has told me _so_ much about you but for obvious reasons I couldn’t meet you until now,” she chattered in my ear, the tone bubbly and mildly annoyed.

“Mor,” Rhys groaned, “Let her go.”

“Ugh, fine,” releasing me but didn’t go far. She continued to smile at me, no trace of dangerous crime leader around her.

Morrigan Solis. Rhys’s third in command and cousin. She was nothing like what I expected. Our reports touted her stone-cold reputation for being a woman who didn’t take no for an answer.

I recovered fast in the face of this shock, feeling alarmingly disarmed by her. “I didn’t realize Rhys talked about me this much. Makes me feel bad that I never mention him to my friends.” Mor threw her head back and laughed while Rhys groaned again in the background, cursing out Mor under his breath. More laugher came from the kitchen, this one low and throaty.

“How come Mor is the only one with all the information?” I turned to see a man pouring wine from a decanter, pouting at Rhys.

“Because she bugs it out of me. You’re usually too busy kissing your muscles to get that far,” Rhys shot back easily.

I recognized Cassian Noc spitting out wine at the words. The ruthless leader of Veritas’s street troops. Ruthless, but a major inspiration of the loyalty in the gang.

“That’s a good look on you, Cas,” Mor commented, moving to refill her own wineglass.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, the weight of a gaze settling on me. Some long-buried primal instinct had me turning slowly like prey avoiding detection to find the source of it. There sitting on the couch was Amren Monsea, blood-red nails encircling a crystal tumbler of amber liquid. Grey eyes so light they could be called silver stripped down the layers of my mortal flesh until she could see the soul beneath it.

Rhys’s second in command. Unlike the others that were completely opposite of what I expected, she was a thousand times worse. My mouth dried up; my heart stumbled into a gallop.

“Quit it, Amren,” a soft voice said at my left. I hadn’t realized that Rhys had stepped up to my shoulder, his warmth bringing me back into my body.

Amren’s eyes flickered to his and blinked, all otherworldly sense falling away, releasing me from her trance.

“Just testing her meddle. We’ll work on it,” she said with a serpentine smile. “She will have to be able to face Amarantha.”

Rhys opened his mouth but Mor appeared at my other shoulder, pressing a glass of wine into my hand. “Ignore Amren, once you get to know her, she’s a doting aunt.”

A hiss came from Amren, which even half-hearted, still did nothing to dispel my wariness of her.

Mor released a dramatic sign, dispelling the rest of the tension. “Everyone wants to talk, talk, talk. Can’t we eat, eat, eat and _then_ talk?” she started herding us to the table where food was already laid out. Mor took a seat and prompted me to take the one to her right. I slid in and realized that I had sandwiched myself between her and Rhys, who had taken the end seat. Cassian brought over what looked to be chicken in mushroom sauce and sat across from me, wine now absent from his face. Amren took the other end of the table and I blinked, just now noticing that Azriel Noc had taken the last seat across from Mor.

Rhys’s infamous spymaster. He was so good at his job that I didn’t even see him in the room until he was sitting at the table.

 _What the fuck have I gotten myself into?_ I was sitting at a dinner table, surrounded by gang members, while they bickered like siblings.

“Pass the potatoes will you, darling?” Rhys asked me. I leveled a glare at him before handing him the bowl.

I had to stop myself from moaning at the first bite of chicken. As an ambitious detective, my meals had been reduced to take out or frozen Lean Cuisines.

Cassian must have picked up on my pleased expression, shooting at self-satisfied grin at me. “If you like dinner so much, Detective Archeron, you should see what’s for dessert,” he winked at me.

“Eat up now then, Feyre, because dessert won’t fill you up,” Mor muttered.

Cas squawked at her, leading the two into a bicker of innuendos. My bewilderment at the family’s dynamics grew while also making me forget that I was at the table with some of the most wanted criminals in the city.

Amren and Az stayed quiet at the end of the table, the former watching with cool amusement with the latter gauging changes in emotions, ready to hop in the middle if needed.

“Not what you expected, darling, is it?” Rhys had leaned over, his breath warm with spices and wine brushing past me. I turned my head only slightly, not taking my eyes off the arguing pair, refusing to meet the violet gaze that was inches from my face.

“No, nothing of what I expected,” I said, not wanting to give away too much of what was going on in my mind. Rhys only let out a small hum, shifting back in his seat to spectate with me.

Mor ignored Cassian’s last comment, deciding to turn to me instead. “So Feyre, Rhys said that you’re willing to help us out, but how do we know that we can trust you?” I gulped my wine hard, thrown off from her switch of bright and bubbly to the person I know on paper. Cold, calculating, and unyielding. A queen of steel and ice.

I decided that simple honesty would be my only chance of survival. “Rhys told me the story of how you had to flee your country from Amarantha,” meeting each of their gazes with steady openness. “I may have taken an oath to follow the law, but I also took an oath to protect the citizens of this city. Amarantha presents a threat to them and I can’t ignore that.” I let the words hang in the air, let them absorb their verisimilitude.

Az was the first to break the silence, “I believe her,” and that was that. The conversational air returned, rushing into the vacuum Mor’s question had created.

Mor then peppered me with more questions.

 _How long had I lived in Velaris?_ (10 years)

 _What my favorite night clubs were?_ (I didn’t have any, usually going along with whatever Lucien had chosen for that week)

And who my latest fuck was, which at that point I choked and used all my will to **not** look at Rhys.

He, apparently, had not done as well as me and blushed a harsh red while boring holes into my skull. Cassian at that point took about one second to analyze the sudden tension on the opposite side of the table from him and burst out laughing.

Mor gave him an incredulous look, too focused on refilling her wine glass to realize what had just happened. Az had the decency to look away while Amren split her mouth in a serpentine smile.

“Well, well, well, it seems that we have a dirty cop on our hands,” Cassian smirked, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. Those words combined with my matching flush allowed Mor to put the pieces together. Her smirk rivaled Cassian’s.

Rhys at this point had composed himself, leaning back in his seat and swirling whatever wine was left in his glass, his face calm but unreadable. _Looks like I’m getting no help there._

My thoughts whirled, trying to come up with a way out of this situation but I kept coming up blank.

“If he’s rendered you this speechless, then I have no hope, do I?” Cas drawled, his gaze simmering into mine.

“Nope, no, Cassian. I do _not_ want to hear about how my cousin is in bed,” Mor shot back, saving me from any more questioning.

“It was a mistake, nothing more,” I finally managed to get out, forcing lightness into the words, ignoring Rhys’s almost unperceivable flinch on the corner of my vision. “I blame it on the drugs and alcohol in my system.”

“Oh ho! So our new little cop friend likes to play hard in and out of bed,” Cas chortled, reveling in the fact that he had new material to harass his brother on.

“No,” I ground out, “The drugs were from some piece of shit thugs who spiked my drink and beat me bloody in an alley. I was following up a lead on _him_ ,” jerking my chin to Rhys, “when this happened. Rhys was kind enough to stitch me up and was fresh out of painkillers, so he gave me whiskey instead. Needless to say, I wasn’t myself that night,” I finished, putting enough severity into the words that I hope he got the message. That night will not be repeated.

Four gazes pressed into me, the violet fifth stared at the table.

“What did they look like?” Mor asked softly but not weakly. Golden fire snapped in her eyes.

I sensed the energy change in the room. Gone was the teasing, replaced by malice not directed at me, but at my attackers.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “I was too busy scoping out the bar for your associates to note the faces well enough. Next thing I knew I was stumbling down the block, not realizing where I was going until I was halfway here.”

“When did this happen?” Cassian followed up.

“Two nights ago, Wednesday.”

“Az,” Cas’s sharp tone cut the air.

“Already on it,” came the response. I looked over and Azriel was rapidly typing on his phone, a call coming through midway a flurry of messages. He excused himself from the table, taking the call in the far corner of the living room.

“It’s probably better that you don’t know what he’s doing,” Mor apologized with a wince. If the last few actions hadn’t already outlined what was about to happen, Mor’s words confirmed it.

“You’re probably right,” was the only response I could give, shocked at how protective they already were of me. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the next time I went into the precinct, there would be fresh missing person or homicide cases on my desk.

It then occurred to me that not one of them had asked about the injuries that were still freshly written across my face and gait. I wondered if Rhys had told them to not ask about them or if they were just used to seeing brutality on a daily basis.

Rhys’s gaze again pressed on me, and this time I turned to meet it. My breath nearly caught at the violent swirl of emotions that were there. Anger. Concern. Apology.

And lust. Barely there but still recognizable. My attempts to shove him away had fallen on deaf ears.

I hated how my core tightened at the heated gaze. Hated how my body responded to his when all I should be doing is putting distance between us. Hated how he did nothing to stop himself.

We were on opposite sides of the law, or at least we used to be. It was my decisions that had brought us closer. I couldn’t ignore his need for my help, but I could ignore how my body cried out for him.

“Thank you for dinner,” I blurted out, breaking the spell between us. He blinked once, returning to the cool mask that he favored.

“You’re welcome,” he said carefully.

“Did I pass the test?” I asked, draining the rest of my glass.

“I’d say so, since you managed to spur Cas and Az into action.”

“Great,” I stood up, ready clear my head of him. “I need to get home and do some research but text me with any new info.”

“You won’t stay for after-dinner wine? I planned to raid Rhys’s collection,” Mor practically pleaded. I took in her puppy dog expression and almost caved, but the heat that appeared at my back reminded me of why I wanted to leave.

“Maybe next time,” I said with a small smile. It was too easy to be friendly with her, criminal record or not.

I headed towards the door, eager to escape and reevaluate my entire life. As I reached for the handle, sturdy fingers brushed mine, rough with calluses. I jerked my hand back as though I had been burned, taking a quick step away from the body that entered my personal space.

“Feyre,” his soft voice wrapped around me. It was only the tenderness in it that made me look up at him. Again, stupidly again, those eyes swallowed me up and threatened to pull me in. “Thank you for coming tonight, I hope it wasn’t too terrible.” A silent plea and apology were laced through the words.

“No,” I paused, “I… I like them, they’re not what I expected.”

A smile played on his lips, glancing back at where Cas and Mor were bickering over kitchen duties while Amren supervised from the bar. “I think they like you too.”

With that he opened the door, letting the cool autumn air swirl in. I inadvertently shivered at the difference in temperature. Rhys had noted it and responded with “If you need someone to warm you up tonight, you have my number,” followed by his classic wink.

I scowled, tucking my hands deep into my coat so that they wouldn’t strangle him or pull him closer. His laughter followed me down the alley and onto the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y‘all will have to tell me what you thought of the chapter. I feel like my writing is kinda blah right now but I kinda pulled it together at the end?  
> Also I hope y’all are staying safe out there <3


	6. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A disappointingly short chapter bc I wanted something from Rhys’s POV for a bit of diversity. I (hope) the next one will be longer.

“No no no no please please please,” his eyes widened, “I swear I don’t know anything.” Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood that was already splattered on his cheeks.

Blood glinted faintly on my black shoes, crossed and propped up on the adjacent table. I tipped my head back, irreverent, studying the man from the corner of eye. The dim lights of the room cast harsh shadows on the planes of mine and Az’s face. Death Incarnate and his blade in the dark.

“Where is Amarantha storing her supplies?” I drawled, only halfway faking the bored exhaustion. It was Saturday night and I was ready for my bed. Preferably with Feyre in it but I was trying to tamp that need down.

Az circled the man tied to the chair. We knew he was some low-level grunt, likely only had two brain cells to rub together but it was possible that anyone had a small piece of information that could lead to more.

“Please let me go, I don’t know anything,” he tried pleading again, going limp in his restraints in an effort to show his innocence.

“You hear that, Az? He doesn’t know anything.” Az didn’t reply, only circling closer and closer to him. The man trembled, averting his eyes.

“As soon as I hear anything, you will be the first to know,” the man tried, but only because he feared us more at the moment than Amarantha. Az’s eyes narrowed, sharing my silent sentiment.

“Knock him out, deposit him on the docks,” I stood, stifling a groan due to my sore limbs. Cassian had been determined to train with me today.

The man’s eyes widened and then shuttered as Az placed a well-executed blow to his head. If the man knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t say a word about being captured. Not if he wanted to live to see another day. The killing blow wouldn’t come from us, but from Amarantha, who didn’t tolerate snitches.

I walked out of the dim room, blinking in the brighter hallway. We were underneath the warehouse district on the edge of the city, a few blocks from the docks. Any major trade going in or out of Velaris passed us by, making it easy to look for signs of Amarantha in the shipments. So far, nothing. Every time I dwelled on the lack of evidence; my teeth cried out in protest from my clenched jaw.

Partnering with Feyre was a fool’s hope. She was smart, ~~and sexy, and funny, and strong~~ , but the police knew less than we did. My only reasoning was that they might hear something on official channels that we missed.

I turned at the sound of scraping behind me to find Az dragging the unconscious man in the opposite direction. “Get some sleep after this, Az!” I called out. His raised hand was the only sign that he heard me, but it didn’t mean he would follow my suggestion.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I fished it out, going on autopilot to navigate the labyrinth of our hideout.

 ** _Darling:_** Hey, are you up?

 ** _Prick:_** For you? Always. Your place or mine?

It was too easy to tease her. Flirt with her. Even when she was adamant that Wednesday’s _incident_ wouldn’t happen again. _Not if I can help it_ , the errant thought skittered across my mind.

 **Darling:** Nevermind

 ** _Prick:_** Wait! No! Come back! I promise I’ll behave!

 ** _Prick:_** Unless you wish otherwise ;)

There was no response for a few minutes, allowing myself time to soundly curse myself for fucking up so quickly.

 ** _Prick:_** I’m sorry

 ** _Prick:_** Are you ok?

I held my breath, bubbles _finally_ popping up and disappearing.

 ** _Darling:_** Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a few questions.

 ** _Prick:_** What’s up?

More bubbles popped up and went away. I finally made it out of the compound and was now sitting in my car. I probably could have started driving home. It was nearing 3 am and traffic was minimal but I didn’t want to take too long responding in case Feyre got even more fed up with me.

 ** _Darling:_** What’s the deal with Mor? She invited me to brunch at her place tomorrow and I’m not really sure why.

I huffed a laugh, tension leaving my body.

 ** _Prick:_** That’s what was so important this late at night? I thought you were about to die on my doorstep again.

I quickly added,

 ** _Prick:_** She just wants to get to know you more. Even though Amren is the scary one, it’s Mor you need to look out for.

 ** _Darling:_** Fuck

 ** _Darling:_** Do I need to be worried?

 ** _Prick:_** No, I promise she does like you.

 ** _Darling:_** Because of how much you talk about me?

 _Oh, so_ she _can flirt with me, but I can’t with her?_

 ** _Prick:_** Don’t go getting a big head, I’m sure she did some stalking of her own.

 ** _Darling:_** Oh great, now there’s two of you.

 ** _Darling:_** With that comforting thought in mind, I’m going to bed. Night.

 ** _Prick:_** Sleep well, darling.

Tacking on the pet name was a risk but I decided to take the lack response as positive. I pulled smoothly out of the underground garage and sped through quiet streets. I played and replayed over the conversation. Feyre truly didn’t need to worry about Mor, she was halfway to making a wedding binder for the two of us at this point. Futile as it may be.

_Maybe I’ll stop in on the brunch tomorrow to make sure Mor doesn’t say anything too embarrassing about me._

My phone buzzed again. I forced myself to come to a stop before looking at it. An alarm went off faintly in my head at how eager I was to look at the text.

 ** _Azriel_** **:** Package delivered.

My heart sank a little, causing me to again curse at my foolishness.

 ** _Rhysand:_** Good. See you tomorrow.

I finished my drive home, parking a street away. A precaution I probably didn’t have to take anymore now that Feyre revealed she knows where I live. Exhaustion finally started to hit. The cool, early morning air did little to wake me up.

My door unlocked with a heavy thunk and closed behind me with the same sound. Little by little the world started to fade at the edges. Just as I managed to strip out of my clothes and lay down, sleep claimed me while dreams of blue eyes and full lips chased me.


	7. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Don’t leave your laptop out in high humidity.  
> Anywhooooo, on an unrelated note, in celebration of getting my laptop back from the shop, here’s a new chapter.

_The prick told me I should have nothing to worry about so why am I hesitating?_ It was 11 am on Sunday, exactly when Mor told me to be at her place. I’m not a person who likes to be late, but here I am, hesitating like a coward.

 _Quit being ridiculous and knock,_ I scolded myself, forcing my fist to raise. Before my second knock was done echoing, Mor flung the door open, a bright smile already lighting her face.

“Feyre! Come in!” her voice matched her face, no trace of hostility or suspicion. As soon as I was over the threshold, she was putting a mimosa in my hand and sweeping back to her kitchen. Mor’s apartment was the complete opposite of Rhys’s, light streaming in from tall windows and open spaces giving the whole room a breathable feeling. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the wall of weapons, nearly as extensive as her cousin’s.

I found myself sipping from the glass before I could stop myself. The drink was cool and sweet, better than Lucien’s mimosas but I could never tell him that (it would break his heart). Mor had returned to whatever task she was doing in the kitchen before I knocked.

“Your home is beautiful,” I commented, idly wandering around, taking in the Velaris skyline and abstract art placed along the walls.

“Thank you! Much better than Rhys’s I think.” I chuckled with her.

“Anything I can do to help?” tearing my eyes away from the art and steering my body back to the kitchen. Fresh fruit was already diced and mixed, bacon was almost done frying on the stove, next to a pile of pancakes. My stomach let out a growl at the spread of food.

“Nope!” Mor chirped, her lips popping at the end of the word, “I’m just about done here. You can carry the champagne and OJ to the balcony and I’ll join you in a sec.” She turned back to the stove, leaving me to follow her instructions.

Carefully weaving through the furniture, I headed towards the already open doors. The slow sounds of a city Sunday drifted up the building walls, sunshine peeked through the clouds, making it warm enough outside to enjoy the cool breeze. Mor’s balcony large enough to accommodate a white, iron table and four chairs, along with two chaise lounges and several potted plants. Everything was casual but thoughtfully chosen, meant for comfort and relaxation.

I set the drinks down on the table before walking to the railing. Below, Velaris spread out for blocks, a perfect vantage point of downtown a few blocks away to the right and a park sprawling to the left. _Peaceful, comfortable, something you don’t expect from the Third of this city’s most notorious crime syndicate._

The clinking of plates behind me drew me from my musing, reminding me that said Third was making me brunch. I sat down at the table with her, trying to subtly watch her dish up a heaping plate of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and fruit before topping off my mimosa.

“Cheers!” she intoned, clinking my raised glass to hers before drinking deeply and then attacking her food. _Stop being ridiculous, she’s shown no sign of wanting to harm you so just eat the food and stop thinking it’s poisoned._ I speared a strawberry on my fork and combined it with a bit of pancake, syrup dripping off of it. I had to physically stop myself from moaning. Like the dinner on Friday, the food was simple but exquisite.

“So Feyre,” she drawled, pulling me out of my reverie, “What lead you to become a cop?”

A simple question, one that she couldn’t do much harm in knowing. “My mother was murdered when I was young, so I wanted to become someone who could prevent or catch the villains that do that.” The simple statement left me feeling raw, perhaps it was the understanding that pooled in Mor’s eyes. Someone who had lost everything too. Mor only nodded, not offering the usual “I’m sorry”, knowing that the words would ring hollow in my ears.

There were a few minutes of silence after that question, Mor allowing me to silently gather myself again. At that point, most of the food was gone along with the champagne. The buttery sunlight combined with the pleasant buzz of alcohol left me feeling full and a bit sleepy. Mor was easy to be around, no sign of that unyielding queen from Friday night.

“Why is she coming to Velaris?” I asked quietly. It was the one question that was bothering me. We weren’t the capital of Prythian, too far north to be a strategic place to launch an invasion, even if the country itself wasn’t so large and powerful.

Mor knew who I was asking about, grimacing as she thought of the adversary. “We don’t know,” she admitted with a scowl, upset at their lack of knowledge. “At first, we thought it was because she had found us and were hunting us down because we escaped. Amren knocked that thought out of our heads, even though Rhys’s parents had money, they were only connected to politics through friends. Then we thought it was because she wanted to invade Prythian,” ah-ha _,_ “but the continent is huge and would be nearly impossible to successfully take over.”

Mor tensely shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to shake off her annoyance, “Best we can figure now is that she got bored of terrorizing one country and wants a new challenge.”

“Shit,” I muttered, it was one thing to be dealing with everyday thugs and murderers, but it was a whole new ballgame to be fighting a crazy woman with a history of coups.

“Shit indeed,” Mor agreed, clinking her empty glass against mine. “I’m opening another bottle, you gonna help me drink it?”

I loosed a tight chuckle from my chest, “Sure, I’ve got nothing to do today,” _lie, but my research isn’t going anywhere._ I helped gather up the empty dishes and took them back to the kitchen where Mor was digging through a small wine cooler built into the counter.

“Just set them in the sink and I’ll take care of them later,” she called over her shoulder. The ceramic clattered against each other, nearly masking the knock that came from the door. Mor’s head popped out from behind the fridge door, glaring at whoever was disturbing her time with a new friend.

“I can get it,” I said, striding towards the entryway, peeping through the eyehole. I groaned at who was standing on the other side. “Mor! It’s your idiot cousin!” I shouted back towards her.

“I heard that,” came the muffled voice. I ignored it, waiting for Mor’s response.

Mor echoed me groan before waving a hand, “Let him in.”

I twisted the handle, swinging it open enough to glare at him, twin to the look he first gave me when I showed up on his doorstep that handful of nights ago.

He was dressed casually enough in dark wash jeans and a graphic t-shirt, but still looked so unfairly good, nonetheless.

He smirked at my face, “I believe she said I could come in.”

I ground my teeth at his voice, his tone, and swung the door open fully and walked away, leaving him to shut it. Mor had already refilled my glass and I welcomed the sweet drink.

“To what do I owe the honor, cousin?” Mor drawled, taking a sip from her own glass, drawing attention to how she didn’t pour him one. Rhys was unfazed by this, beelining to the cabinet and snagging a glass for himself. Swiping the champagne from the counter before Mor could hide it, he poured himself a glass and took a sip before answering. “Do I need a reason to come and see my favorite cousin?” smirking at her.

“No,” Mor sniffed, “but did you have to do it while I was having girl time with our new favorite cop friend?”

“That’s precisely why I came,” he said with a wink towards me. I shoved down the blush that was surely from the alcohol, _prick._ “I needed to make sure you didn’t start telling embarrassing childhood stories of me.”

“Well now that you mention it…,” Mor started on a story of how Rhys ended up in a pool stark naked on a dare. How she managed to tell the story with Rhys chasing her around the apartment was a miracle to me. By the end, we were all in stitches from laughter.

 _His eyes glow blue when he’s laughing,_ the thought snuck into my mind. _No, Feyre, don’t you dare._

Rhys responded to Mor’s story with one of his own. Now he was the one being chased by a winded and slightly tipsy Mor while telling me about how she tried asking a girl out for the first time and ended up in the school fountain. I would have felt bad for her with him telling that story, but Mor and the girl ended up dating for a year after that.

Late morning bled into early evening, more food had been made that afternoon and Cas and Azriel arrived at some point when they found out that Rhys and Mor were trying to out-embarrass the other in front of me. Cassian had a million and one stories of them being young and stupid, but it was always Azriel that got the biggest laughs. The combination of his quiet demeanor and dry humor coaxed us all into a lull before delivering the punchline unexpectedly.

“So glad that you all are enjoying yourselves,” the cold voice came from behind.

“Shit!”

“What the fuck!”

“Aiiiiiieeeee!” (that high-pitch scream came from Cassian)

We all jumped to our feet, Cassian, Mor, and Rhys reaching for their weapons while Az and I took up defensive stances. There, standing five foot flat, was Amren, glaring at us all with her arms crossed.

“Amren,” Rhys recovering first, “How did you get in?”

She only raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said sweetly, surveying the general disarray of the living room.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to sober up. A shipment from Amarantha will be here tonight and we need to be there to intercept it,” she informed us, spinning on her heel to march out of the front door.

Cas and Az got on their phones, calling whomever they needed to get into position. Mor disappeared into her bedroom, presumably to change.

I stood and watched the family jump into action. Rhys appeared beside me, prompting me to look up at him with a questioning look.

“You don’t have to come, I can fill you in later.”

“No, I need to see what we’re up against,” I said firmly. Rhys scanned my face and nodded.

“Mor will have a change of clothes you can borrow,” he nodded in the direction of her room. I returned his nod and started towards it, squaring my shoulders against the shit storm that was about to hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I start my big girl job on Monday so I’m unsure how that will affect my writing time. Also, I did not anticipate the chapter ending this way so now I have a direction to take the story in!


	8. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What?????? A new chapter already? It turned out way beefier than I thought it would so I split it in two. Enjoy lovelies~

Well, _I_ thought it started out fine. According to everyone else, however, all the signs for a shit show were there from the beginning.

After Amren snuck into Mor’s apartment and informed us of the incoming shipment for Amarantha, we all sprung into action. Cassian was gathering his men to rendezvous with us where it was coming in, Azriel’s spies scoping out the surrounding buildings and streets. Mor disappeared for a costume change.

Feyre… she watched us, only barely looking unsure of her place in all of this. This would be her first mission with us, the definition of out of the frying pan and into the fire. But she took it all in stride. Less than 15 minutes later all of us were sorted into two cars and were on our way to the docks to intercept the shipment. Feyre had emerged in tight dark grey pants and a black long sleeve that clung to her curves, hair tied back and stuffed into a black beanie. Cas let out a whistle and immediately started spouting his shitty pick-up lines. To my amusement and relief, her only response was to flip him off and follow Mor out of the apartment.

That’s when it all started going downhill. Mor and Cas claimed they wanted to grill Feyre on her police training and drug her into Cas’s SUV. That left me with a quiet Az and ever-grumpy Amren in my sedan. Why I couldn’t be the one to ask about her training was beyond me.

Most of the ride was spent in silence, only broken by texts of information coming through. Ten men were expected to be meeting the container. Contents unknown. Amarantha herself was not expected to be there.

This would be the first real lead on her operation, despite myself, I was optimistic. For once, we would have a handle on her plans.

Oh

How

We

Were

Wrong

Thinking back, it’s lucky that we escaped with only scrapes and bruises with only one of the men grazed by a bullet. Very lucky those were the only injuries but now she knew that there was someone on her tail, and that would make tracking her that much harder.

After a more or less uneventful ride to the docks, we parked a few blocks away from the arrival location. My men were at our sides in seconds, quietly distributing weapons. I already had my typical compact tucked away on my person, I seldom left home without it. Extra ammo disappeared into my pockets and a hunting knife clipped onto my belt. Feyre was offered a 9mm, no one batting an eye if they recognized her as the cop that used to hunt us down. She looked at ease, checking the chamber before tucking it into her waistband. And damn, if it didn’t make her that much hotter.

“I’m going to go scout out rooftops, boss,” Az said to me, carrying a sniper rifle. I only nodded to him, turning to Amren to listen to her explain the plan to the others. She and I had hammered it out on our way over, but I wanted everyone else’s input before finalizing it.

“James, Wernt, Niam and Yao, I want you approaching from the left while Johnson, McGuire, Harlan and Tagaras will come from the right. I don’t want any stragglers escaping, we need all the information we can get.” The eight nodded, having no comments to give. It was a standard flanking procedure.

“Azriel will be on the rooftops, he’ll help keep everyone corralled into one spot,” I said. “Cas, Mor, Amren and I will approach from the containers towards the meeting place. Modrow, Cain and Carvalho will cover our backs. Keep low and keep quiet, I want this done without the police being called on us for as long as possible. Watch your shots, try to take them down using force first.”

“Injure first, kill only if necessary,” Amren warned, her silver eyes flashing in the dark alley. “This will be the most dangerous situation we’ve handled yet. Not your typical rent-a-cops from the research facilities. From what we can tell, these are trained hires, most likely private protection company. We have surprise on our side so use it.”

“My flanking groups,” I said, “Only engage once we have, until then, stay in the shadows and keep your eyes open. Comms are going live… now,” quiet static burst in my left ear before fading. Az’s voice came through, confirming that he has a clear view of the delivery point and that ten men are waiting there. Five grouped up near a semi, three spaced to the side watching the water for the incoming boat, two monitoring the surrounding containers.

Feyre lingered at the back of the group, watching Amren and I lay out the plan with a blank face, no hint of whether she approved or was appalled.

“Go now,” came Amren’s quiet command and the groups scattered, each carefully checking the street before turning towards their destination.

Feyre approached us, “Where do you want me?” No demands to be in the middle of the action, no comments on the plan. Amren let me answer her question.

“I want you with the group who will be covering our backs. I trust them to treat you fairly.” I hastily add on, “Not that any of my men would lay a hand on you, they just already know why you’re here.” She smirked at how I nearly tripped over my words. “Also…,” she tensed, unsure of my next words, “I want you to keep your face hidden in case any of Amarantha’s men escape. They might recognize you and I have a feeling that would be bad for your reputation.”

Feyre released a tight chuckle. “It would be ideal that the rest of the world doesn’t know that I’m helping a crime lord.”

The tight knot that appears in my chest before a mission loosened a little. I wasn’t sure how Feyre was going to take being in the shadows, but it seemed I had nothing to worry about. She followed us out of the alleyway, her steps as silent as ours. The shipyard was only two blocks from our position, but every second out in the open was a risk. Azriel’s spies said that there were only men at the drop site, and they were rarely wrong.

Rarely.

Yards crept by, buildings giving way to a grid of shipping containers and roads. The occasional voice came through on the comm, confirming positions or giving warnings. Feyre easily blended in with the team watching our backs, taking silent cues when to advance and when to hold.

Soon, there was an empty space ahead of us, only the shadows covering us. True to Az’s observations, there were ten men in varying positions, precisely where he said they would be.

Minutes ticked down until a low hum increased in volume. There along the waterfront was a barge, much smaller than the massive ships that frequented this channel. On it were several large crates, all unmarked.

“Hold,” came the quiet command, Amren. It was unnecessary but this operation was too important to take the chance.

More minutes slipped by as the five men by the semi prowled towards the boat, exchanging words that were too low for us to hear. One of the men hopped into a small crane that was on the edge of the water and began unloading the crates when another used a forklift to transfer them to the semi.

“Ready,” Amren breathed. Mor to my left slid her gun from her holster, ready to ambush the clearing.

“Put your gun down.”

My blood ran cold at the growl that came from behind me. Low swearing came through the comms that sounded like Feyre.

The four of us froze, slowly turning towards the source of the sound.

 _You’ve got to be_ **fucking** _kidding me._ I realized my thought was the exact same thing that Feyre had muttered a few seconds ago.

The man had short-cropped blond hair and green eyes that glittered harshly in the low light. His stance was ready but relaxed, a predator who knew he had his prey right where he wanted them. Three other men were at his side, guns pointed at us.

Tamlin.

Fucking.

O’Toole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t judge me for reusing Tamlin’s last name from Chasing Tails (if you haven’t read it already, I recommend it). I loved it too much to give up.


	9. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been DYING to post this chapter cause I think y'all will like it ;)

A cop from a precinct across the city.

Feyre’s piece of shit ex (not that I internet stalked her, that was all Mor who then reported back to me).

An apparent lackey to Amarantha.

The second thought to run through my head was that, under no circumstances, can he know that Feyre is here.

Based upon the mutterings coming from the comms, no one else had been captured and they wanted to know what the _hell_ is going on.

Fucking shit.

“Put your fucking guns down,” he commanded again. Mor and Cas looked to me. I gave them a nod. Amren hadn’t even drawn hers yet. She was superior at hand to hand and had little reason to even carry a gun at times.

“I’ve heard about you, Lord of the Night,” Tamlin drawled, chuckling as though he was sharing a private joke between friends. “My captain rants on and on and on about how hard it is to pin you down for an arrest and it took me… what? Ten seconds to capture you? Unofficially of course, but much too easy nonetheless.”

The comms went quiet when Az gave a sharp order to shut the fuck up. The adrenaline already rushing through my system kicked up another notch as I tried to figure out how to get us out of this mess.

“I’m somehow unsurprised that you’re a dirty cop, Lieutenant O’Toole,” I said, monitoring his men. Behind us, the sounds of the forklift continued, covering the conversation.

Tamlin shrugged, unconcerned that I knew who he was and who he was working for. “She made a compelling argument, and who am I to say no to extra padding in my bank account.”

I narrowed my eyes at the last statement. Here was a man who fought with little honor, and those were the most dangerous of all.

“Take their guns, tie their hands,” Tamlin commanded, half turning away to type a message on his phone.

What happened from there is mostly a blur.

Shadows become flesh, moving too fast for Tamlin to register. One moment he was upright and sneering, the next he was on the ground, knocked out and face slack. Two of his men went down almost at the same time as him, other shadows knocking them out. One managed to evade and let out a shout before falling to his knees. The men in the clearing turned towards the sound, training their guns towards us.

A hand grabbed my shoulder and pinned me to a nearby container seconds before gunshots rang out. I started to struggle but stopped when I recognized Feyre was the one holding me there. Her arm was across my chest, her temple centimeters from my lips. If she turned her head, we would have been in a very distracting position. Thankfully, her eyes were trained towards the direction of the clearing and where the sounds of scuffling were coming from.

Voices chattered on the comms, general chaos and disarray broke out. More shots flew by, too thick for any chance of advancement.

“Fall back,” I ordered. “Fall back _now_.” Affirmations came in, voices roll calling to confirm that they made it away.

“Go Rhys, I’ll cover you,” Az’s said.

I looked down where Feyre had relaxed her arm. She nodded and begun to creep towards where Cas was. Once she was safely past him, I followed, keeping one eye behind me.

A shadow flickered around the corner from where the clearing was. I made a sharp right turn behind the protection of a container, but not before the man got off a shot that grazed my left arm.

I guess I should have mentioned before that I was the one that nearly took a bullet.

Pain burst from the wound, blessedly dulled by the heat of the situation. A problem for later.

An ear-splitting bang echoed through the corridor.

“Clear, Rhys,” Az’s voice came through again, this time icy and tight. He was blaming himself for my injury.

“Thanks, Az,” was all I could give him right now. After checking the path, I continued to follow the others. A block later, the shouts died down and disappeared. Hopefully, they would be distracted by Tamlin and his downed men long enough for us to get away.

We piled into the cars, not caring who drove who or what, and drove off, everyone accounted for. I ended up in the back of Cas’s SUV with Feyre beside me and Amren squished against the door. Amren looked like she was ready to murder half of the city while Feyre looked relatively unperturbed. Maybe she was used to high tension scenarios, her being a detective and all.

The ride was tense and quiet until we pulled into the underground parking garage at our compound. Bodies spilled out of the gathered cars, chatter quickly filling the space as everyone tried to determine what the hell just happened.

“Quiet,” Amren said low voice. That was all that was needed to shut everyone up. “Everyone go inside, get cleaned up, and then get some food. We’ll debrief soon.”

The garage emptied out, the silence pressing in on us. Amren closed her eyes and let out a long stream of air from her nose. It would have been comical if not for the silver fire that had burned in her eyes. When she opened her eyes, she turned towards me. “Who the fuck was that?”

Feyre was the one to speak up, “Lieutenant Tamlin O’Toole from Velaris Precinct 8,” then after a pause, “My ex.”

“Well, shit,” was all Amren had to say. Her words unintentionally broke the tension, us all chuckling at a rare time that Amren didn’t have something to say.

She turned to Feyre, appraising her. “Nice moves, by the way. Glad to see they teach you something useful in the force.”

Feyre shrugged. Hair had started to escape from her cap, giving her a messy halo in the underground lighting. “In the force, it’s either win or die, especially for the women.”

“We’re sparring sometime,” Cas said, a new glint in his eye as he sized her up. A new opponent to figure out. Feyre let out a short laugh, “Let me heal first, no reason to give you an unnecessary advantage.”

Despite the pain in my arm and the shitty reality that Amarantha now knew of our actions against her, a small smile cracked my lips. That fight was something that I would bring popcorn to. And betting money (all on the lady of course).

“So to summarize up the night,” Mor said to bring us back to the situation at hand, “We don’t know what was in that shipment, a dirty cop is working for Amarantha and knows our faces, which in turn means Amarantha knows our faces and Rhys is bleeding from somewhere. Am I leaving out anything?”

Feyre whipped her head towards me, “You’re bleeding?”

“A bullet grazed him during the retreat,” Az growled, reminded that he was the one was that was covering me.

“Only a graze, and nothing you could have anticipated, Az,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder with my uninjured arm. He still looked unhappy, but that was Az half the time, no matter what I did to reassure him that his spy work was unparalleled.

“Where is your first aid stuff?” Feyre asked, her eyes cold. I inclined my head for her to follow me. There was not much else to discuss, other than how the entire night had gone to shit. I would have stayed but the pain in my arm was starting to spread and I was eager to have a moment alone with Feyre. She might be pushing me away at every turn, but it only made the tension between us grow. A tension that I hoped would snap again soon.

Shaking the dirty thoughts from my mind, we reached the closet that acted as an infirmary for us. A sink and small counter took up most of the space, with cabinets above and below filled with supplies. I leaned against the far wall, letting Feyre sort through the cabinets and slam their doors, admiring the dark look on her face that made her cheekbones stand out. Anger did wonders for her freckles.

“Strip,” came the simple command, followed by her blushing hard at the implication. “So I can see the wound.”

I smirked and untucked the shirt from my waistband. “As the lady commands.” I had changed out of the white shirt and jeans into the black cargo pants and fitted long sleeve I kept in my car for times like this.

Blood had started to dry at the edges of the ripped sleeve, adhering to the wound. I grunted at how it pulled at my skin, but it wasn’t unmanageable. When my view was no longer blocked by fabric, I saw that Feyre had stepped towards me with her hands outstretched as though she would help me out of the shirt. Now I regretted not playing up the pain so that she would have helped me.

 _Quit it you man-whore_ , I cursed myself. For all I knew, I was on thin ice with Feyre and I didn’t want to risk breaking it. No matter that we had spent all day today laughing and drinking Mor’s alcohol.

Feyre’s gaze had turned analytical, studying where the bullet grazed my skin. A two-inch-long gash cut through my mid-bicep, thankfully only a half-centimeter deep. An inconvenience for the next few weeks.

“My stitches won’t be the prettiest, but they’ll hold.” I nodded for her to begin. She cleaned the wound with peroxide, her movements quick and sure. She had managed to find a small syringe prefilled with a numbing agent.

“Go ahead and start stitching, I’ve been through this before,” I said gently at her hesitation. She pressed her lips together and nodded, steadying her hands on my arm and started to sew.

I winced at the first few but soon the drug kicked in and it was only a tugging sensation. A row of only slightly crooked stitches later, she was pressing a clean gauze to the wound and wrapping fabric tightly around it.

“Thank you,” I breathed, “For saving me. Saving us.”

Her eyes flickered to mine, softer now, edging closer to the warmth I saw there earlier.

“You’re welcome,” she returned, tucking the end of the wrap into the bandage.

“And thank you for stitching me up,” I tested the mobility of my arm. The stitches pulled slightly but overall it wasn’t too much of a hindrance.

“I owed you one.”

I held her gaze, hoping that the heat there was from the reminder of that night and wasn’t just the reflection of mine. She didn’t back down from me, letting the memories flow between us.

Her eyes flickered down to my lips, her own parting before returning to meet my gaze again.

Call it the crash after an adrenaline high.

Call it a foolish risk.

Call it whatever the fuck you want because I was too focused on how she felt beneath my hands.

I surged forward, not giving either of us time to think about what was happening. Her lips were hungry on mine, my tongue sweeping against the seam of her mouth asking for permission. She yielded, opening beneath me, hot breath rushing between us.

Feyre sunk her teeth into my bottom lip, drawing a groan out of me. _This woman…_ this woman who had heard my story and decided to help us despite breaking the law. This woman who could down a full-grown man, her ex nonetheless, in two moves so fast that he couldn’t see it coming. This woman who I so desperately wanted day and night, in and out of my bed. Who was strong and confident and sexy.

I plunged my hands into her hair, ignoring how the beanie she had on fell to the floor and tipped her head back to allow me access to her neck. I pressed my lips onto the tender skin there, nipping my way down, taking whatever she would give me before she came to her senses and pushed me away.

Her hands tightened on my shoulders, nails digging into the muscle before sliding up my neck to twist her fingers around the hair at the nape of my neck. Yanking my head up, I feared this was the end but instead she captured my lips again.

I moved one hand from her hair to her waist, pulling her tighter to me, deepening the kiss.

“Feyre? I’ll give you a ride home,” Cas’s voice echoed down the hallway.

We broke apart, gasping as if though we had just sprinted away from a hoard of Amarantha’s men. I opened my eyes to see that hers was still closed, her face unreadable. Her eyes slowly opened and met mine. Lust had settled in there, nearly making me yell at Cas to fuck off for the rest of eternity.

The words were on my lips when she slipped from my hands, slowly, as though she was reluctant to do so. Or maybe that was my imagination.

“Thanks Cas! I’m almost done patching up Rhys,” she yelled back, still not completely out of my grasp. My hands itched to pull her back, but I stopped myself as she took a step away, carefully not meeting my eyes. Because I couldn’t stand not seeing what emotion was there, I allowed a hand to reach out and grasp her chin, turning her face back towards me.

Lust. Regret. Mischief. Frustration. A dizzying mixture that made my knees weak. Or maybe that was the blood loss.

“See you later?” I hesitantly asked, unsure if I wanted to hear her answer.

A pause, and then a small smile bloomed on her face, “See you later.” She walked out of the room, answering a hollering Cas and starting up a banter with him about who would win between them in a sparring match.

I stayed slumped against the wall, the chill of concrete slowly dissipating the heat that Feyre had stirred in me.

_Fuck, this woman._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. THANK YOU a million times over for 200 kudos and all the kind comments!!!! I would not have written more than the first chapter without all y'all begging me to write more and now I have a fun story to write, so thank you <3


	10. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man we’re 10 chapters into this and still nowhere near the end. I’m honestly not even sure where I’m going with this story so sit back and enjoy the ride.  
> B&E: breaking and entering  
> Bullpen: common holding cell for those arrested to wait

_Ughhhh, can’t a girl get some sleep around here?_ My phone ignored my internal bitching, continuing to ring. My fingers reached out, fumbling for it.

I didn’t bother looking at the caller, knowing who it was already. “Lucien,” I answered, my voice thick with sleep.

“There’s been reports of shots fired at the docks, looks like the Veritas could have been involved.”

 _Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._ “How can you know?” Adrenaline pounded through my system, waking me up. I had only gotten home barely an hour earlier, Cas dropping me off with a grin and a wink.

“Wishful thinking, mostly. Maybe a bit of a hunch,” Lucien admitted. “But this is a close area to where we think the Veritas base is…” I now knew that was nowhere close to true, it was several blocks north of where we were trying to narrow it down.

“You woke me up for a hunch?” trying to bring my heart rate back down, doing my best to put a grumble in the words to sell them.

“I know you need your beauty sleep,” he teased, sounding unfairly awake for the ungodly hour, “But I thought I should give you the heads up.”

I sighed, flipping onto my back to stare at the shadowy ceiling. “Thanks, Lucien. You want me to come meet you at the docks?”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered, the area was abandoned except for some bullet casings and tire marks. You need your sleep to heal from those bruises, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay, call me if you need backup,” exhaustion pulling me down again despite the heart attack he almost gave me. The line went dead and I sank back against my pillows, relieved that there seemed to be almost no evidence of Veritas involvement from tonight.

Lucien didn’t mention the possibility of another group being there tonight. Had he not completely examined the scene yet? Or had he just assumed it was an internal Veritas skirmish?

 _Questions for the morning, Feyre,_ I reminded myself. I had been pushing myself hard the last few days and my body cried out for rest.

Slowly, I managed to sink down into sleep again, my dreams filled with clashing violet and green eyes.

* * *

The normal Monday flurry of activity greeted me when I stepped off the elevator at the precinct. The night shift shuffled by, heading home for sleep. Cops bustled back and forth, stopping to talk to others if they had a question. Those that had been arrested yowled obscene things from the bullpen every now and again. Typical for a day at Precinct 12.

Except now there was a huge board set up in the briefing room, covered in reports, clippings, photos and other various bits of paper.

“Uhhhhh Lucien?” I called to my partner who had beaten me our desks, “What’s this?” I took a few steps into the room, eyes darting across the board. They settled on a pair of violet eyes looking directly at whoever was taking the photo, a hint of mirth in them as though he knew who was taking the photo.

_It was me. I took that photo on one of the first stakeouts with Lucien to get a handle on the new gang that had popped up in town. Just him knowing exactly when and where to look was the first hint that we were biting off more than we can chew. Rhysand Noc wasn’t running a new gang but an organized criminal enterprise with an MO of kidnapping scientists._

_Rhysand Noc, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere in Velaris a week before, immediately started causing waves in the underbelly of the city with his family._

_Rhysand Noc and his family who were practically laughing in our faces at how they were able to walk down the street without a care in the world because they_ knew _we had nothing on them._

_Helion had put the two of us on his tail soon after, ordering us to trail him and catch him as soon as possible with an arrestable offense._

_Weeks went by and the only thing we saw him do was run a stop sign. And after bringing him in on that charge, it was clear he did it on purpose to feel us out. Get a look inside the precinct and how we think. He had been completely at ease the whole time, going as far as to flirt with me at one point. Had it not been for my stellar ability to grit my teeth and sit back, I might have been tempted to punch that smug look off his ~~perfect~~ face. _

“Captain made the Veritas Crime Syndicate our top priority after the shooting last night. Even though there were no bodies or blood, it looks like they’re becoming more violent. Vargas and Boyle are now working with us on this.”

Velaris was a pretty big city but safer compared to those further down south. It had its standard run of the mill gangs and lowlife, but Rhys and his family and Amarantha went far beyond that. The oncoming storm might end up being one of the worst in this city’s long history.

The thought of that sent a shudder of ice crawling down my spine. When I joined the force, I knew I would be dealing with blackened and lost souls, seeing someone’s life spilled out on the cold ground, but a threat on this scale would be devastating for the citizens of Velaris.

Lucien had continued on in the background, oblivious to my dark, troubling thoughts. He followed me back to our desks, handing me the file from last night. Flipping through it, it didn’t have much information other than the facts from the scene and stipulations that the Veritas were involved.

There was one thing I had refused to let my conscious confront from last night until now.

_Hot lips pressed against mine, strong hands pulling me closer._

I mentally shook myself, **_No,_** _not **that.**_ _The other thing_ , shoving Rhys far, far, far from my mind.

Tamlin.

He had been there last night, working for Amarantha.

And I had knocked him the **fuck** out. If I had to admit it, it felt damn good to drop him after all the shit he put me through.

I flashed a glance over at Lucien. His chin was propped on his hand, the other scrolling through whatever was making him grimace slightly. The morning light streaming in from the windows caught the gleam of glass from his left eye. Sometimes I completely forgot that he only had one eye having lost it when he was little. As close as we were, that was one story he hadn’t told me yet, the scars from it running deeper than the ones I could see.

 _I can’t tell him, not yet at least._ Other than me, Tamlin was Lucien’s closest friend and that kind of pain might send him into a spiral that I can’t pull him out of. If I was lucky, and I rarely am, maybe Tamlin getting knocked out last night had made him realize the money wasn’t worth the pain and jail time.

* * *

A steady flow of work passed me by, Lucien and I leaving only once for a basic B&E scene and making it back before lunch.

It was in the break room where Captain Cartana found us. Despite the growing concern for the Veritas, he was practically glowing with happiness. And despite my growing concern for Rhys and Tamlin and everything else, his happiness was infectious, and a smile sprung to my face.

“Ready for your wedding this weekend, Captain?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be already.

“I wish it was tomorrow,” he answered, a slightly glazed look coming to his eyes when he thought of his fiancée. Lucien and I looked at each other and laughed, Helion was absolutely smitten with Leana.

“Anything else need to be done for the big day?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“Nope! Everything is made or booked or ordered, now all we have to do is count down the days,” that glazed look deepened, causing Lucien and I to groan our disgust, barely hiding shaking shoulders.

That broke Helion out of it, a mock glare sweeping over us. Here was a man that had no shame in how much he loved his soon-to-be wife.

“Well, we’re excited to be there,” Lucien assured. Even though Helion could be a tough captain, he treated everyone under him fairly, encouraging trust and friendships to grow in the precinct. Lucien and I were practically the poster children for that fact after he put us on night shift duty for six months. Now nearing six years on the force and we had become close enough to the captain to be invited to the wedding, along with half of the precinct.

With a nod and a smile, Helion stood up and strode out of the room. And I’ll be damned if no one was watching, he would be skipping instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all catch my Brooklyn 99 ref?  
> I feel like even though Helion sleeps with both men and women, he would end up marrying a woman ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ sue me


	11. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a little information on our big baddie ;)  
> CI: confidential informant

**_Prick:_** Meeting at the compound tonight, 8pm

 ** _Darling:_** I’ll be there. Any particular way you want me to arrive?

 ** _Prick:_** Well I’d never say no to you wearing a coat and nothing else

My vision turned red for a second, ready to tell him to go fuck himself and defeat Amarantha alone. Only my desire to protect my city from her had me texting instead

 ** _Darling:_** No smartass, I mean how do you want me to get there? I can’t exactly walk right in the front door.

A verbal lashing can come later, hopefully somewhere semipublic where I can berate him but not be too tempted to also make out with him ~~again~~.

 ** _Prick:_** Oh

 ** _Prick:_** I can come pick you up

 ** _Darling:_** Fine, but only because it’s too cold to walk

A cold front had swept in the past few days, causing more leaves to turn brown and fall. The crunched underneath my shoes, a small satisfaction on my daily commute to work.

I gave him my address, cringing slightly that he now knew where I lived. Granted, he could find out on his own by tailing me. Azriel probably already had and passed the information along to him and he was only asking out of politeness.

 ** _Prick:_** See you then, darling

A string of curse words streamed from my mouth, taking a slight edge off my frustration with him. Lucien looked up from his report, a worried look on his face.

 _Shit_ , I held up my phone, “Landlord problems,” I lied. A believable lie at least. Lucien knew where I lived and the landlord I had to deal with on a regular basis. You’d think being a cop would deter the man and force him into action, but Gabe cut from a gelatinous cloth of indifference and alcohol.

Lucien gave me a sympathetic look and went back to his work. The past two days, he had been in and out of the precinct tracking down his CI’s to see if they knew anything about the shooting at the docks. Anytime he brought it up, I forced my face to be carefully blank or vaguely lost in thought, as though I was perplexed too by who could have been behind it. Thankfully, most of the time Lucien was looking at a report or his computer when he talked about it. Even though it was my case too, I hadn’t done any real investigating on it yet. I would need to soon so that people didn’t start asking questions.

Throwing my phone back into my bag, I turned to my screen again, pulling up a search bar. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, poised to type in Amarantha. It would hardly be the first time I had Googled her name, but the precinct was too public a place to risk it.

The first time had been on the subway home from Rhys’s ~~after I slept with him.~~ All it took was her first name.

**Search results: 502,000 for Amarantha Bast**

The first link was a Wiki page (thank you internet). Clicking on it, I held my breath as it loaded (service was slow underground). The first thing I saw was her picture. Red hair pinned back in an elegant twist. Sensuous red lips twisted up in a small smile. But her eyes, it was her eyes that sent a shudder down my spine. Blacker than night, they absorbed all light, all joy, everything. Scrolling down, I scanned over the basic information, my eyes catching on her age.

 **Born** October 14th, 1982

I counted backwards from the information Rhys gave me. _She had been twenty-one years old when she took over Rhys’s country, holy fucking Caldron._ What little warmth was left in my body disappeared. If she was capable of staging a coup at that age, what could she do now?

I continued down.

**Queen of Hybern**

**Assumed Office** February 3rd, 2000

 _Over twenty years ago, she wasn’t even eighteen yet. How the hell did she manage that?_ I skipped the rest of the basic information, wanting to read her bio.

_Amarantha Bast was born to King Malcolm Bast and Princess Mara Bast on October 14th, 1982. Her mother died soon after the birth of her only child. Bast assumed her father’s title on February 3rd, 2000 following his death the month before. She was born in Hybern’s capital city of Zensa and continues to reside there to this day._

_From birth, she was given the title of Princess Regent, poised to inherit the country on her father’s death. As such, from childhood she was educated in the laws of her country and how to lead upon his death. After assuming the title of Queen, she shut down the borders of her country citing that the Green Death, a variation of the Black Death, had broken out and must be contained. It was the same disease that took her father’s life and a third of her citizens. _

_In a press release at that time, she is quoted saying “The loss of my father and my people have been a devasting blow for me and my country. It is in our best interests to close the borders until the disease is contained. When we have it [the disease] under control, we will consider reopening our borders for travel and trade.”_

_A few months after Bast closed Hybern’s borders, she also assumed control of a neighboring country, Illyria. In another press release, she stated “Due to the carelessness of some Hybern citizens, the disease had spread beyond our borders into Illyria. In the unsuspecting country, the disease spread like wildfire and has taken out the majority of government officials and a quarter of Illyrians. To prevent the collapse of their economy, I have annexed Illyria into Hybern so that we may share resources in these hard times.” Bast was hailed a public hero in Hybern, Illyria, and other nearby countries for her swift and compassionate actions. _

From what Rhys had told me, I knew the majority of what she said was bullshit. I had clicked on the link for Illyria, but its page was barebones. Since it had gotten annexed into Hybern, it seemed that most of its history had been erased or forgotten about.

I made mental notes to ask Rhys about his country when I next got the chance. I could do it over text, but the pain in his voice from his lost country and family made me think it was an in-person conversation. Maybe tonight after the meeting.

I closed down the web browser, instead, pulling up the report from the shooting. The file had barely grown in the last few days. Ballistics came back from the site. Your basic 9mm and handguns, fragments from a sniper bullet (that would be Az’s) and… blood. I had forgotten about that. Az had shot one of Amarantha’s men so that Rhys could getaway.

I pulled up the medical report. There had been no body, at least at the scene. DNA tests were still being run, if the guy was in the system, we would know by the end of today. Odds are that he was just some common criminal that got hired for the job. Another dead end.

I stood from my desk stretching and willing blood flow back to my legs. Lucien barely glanced up from whatever had him so entranced. I strode into the briefing room, scanning the board with the Veritas case on it. It was information I had gone over a thousand times in my head, with Lucien and the captain, with half the precinct but before, we were no closer to any answers. Now, I could look over everything with different eyes.

The kidnapping of doctors to find a way to stop the horrible disease that she could release on our country.

The raiding of warehouses to find where Amarantha was storing supplies and weapons.

Last night’s shooting wasn’t supposed to happen and even then it was only in self-defense.

I heaved a massive sigh, feeling tired in my bones, in my soul. I was hiding things from my captain, from my partner. I was breaking the law every second of every day for an attack that might not even happen. Yes, Rhys and the others have found weapons they think might belong to Amarantha, but she could just be supplying local gangs. There has been no evidence, no sign of an imminent bioattack with that disease. I had also looked into the Green Death more, but little was known about it since Amarantha had shut down Hybern and Illyria borders so tightly, saying that it was too risky to release to the world’s doctors eager to study it.

More questions than I had mental capacity swirled around giving me a headache. I decided to let Lucien take point on this, staying in the background for as long as possible. I refused to destroy or alter any police documents but maybe I could give a heads up to the Veritas if anything pops up.

With one last look at the board, I walked out of the briefing room to mentally prepare myself for being in the same car as Rhys, even if it was for twenty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I say that a character had forgotten something, I really mean that I had forgotten it.  
> I finished my painting of the ToG map, please go take a look!  
> https://missbrightsky.tumblr.com/post/624831934486429696/finished-my-throne-of-glass-map-im-absolutely-in


	12. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and reread chapter 3 and there are a few inconsistencies from how Rhys told the story compared to Amarantha’s Wiki page. We’ll just chalk that up to Rhys’s version of the events to how the world perceived it.

At seven-thirty precisely, there was a knock at my door. I yanked it open, already glaring at who I knew would be on the other side.

“How the hell did you get inside my building?” I asked before he could begin to talk.

A feline grin that did stupid things to my insides spread across his face. “You should really move to a better part of the city if any riffraff from off the street can just walk in.”

I narrowed my eyes, not willing to reply.

Rhys only lifted an eyebrow before saying, “Your sweet downstairs neighbor Miss Berry let me in after I offered to help her carry her groceries up. She said that you were a lucky girl to have such a nice, handsome young gentleman paying you a visit.” His grin grew into a smirk as he recounted the praise.

“Lucky fucking me,” I grumbled, stepping out of my apartment. I might have aimed for his toes, but he moved back in time to avoid them being crushed. I locked the door and shouldered past him. He stayed annoyingly close ~~not close enough~~ as we descended into the night. His car was parked right out front, a nondescript, black sedan, the same one from Sunday night. The stupid, long-legged prick managed to beat me to the door, opening it with a grand sweep and bow.

“Darling,” he purred, looking up at me from under his eyelashes, those almost violet eyes simmering with heat and mischief.

I was paying the price for letting the adrenaline get the best of me on Sunday.

I ignored him the best I could, sliding into the interior. Like Cas’s SUV, the car was clean and comfortable. Not a ridiculously high-end model, but something that was still elegant. Rhys shut my door and got into the driver’s side, smoothly pulling into traffic.

“So darling,” my teeth ground at the nickname, his midnight tone, “How was your day at work.

 _Don’t answer, don’t answer, don’t answer_ , “Fine,” _shit._

A sideways glance from the corner of my eye revealed that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. _Prick_.

“Just fine?” he pressed on, “Not fabulous or downright terrible?”

“No, just fine,” I hissed.

“Oooooo, what a _fine_ temper you’re in today, you and Amren will be happy to snap at each other while we all watch.”

“Amren’s in a bad mood too?” I blurted and then cursed myself for being curious. Rhys had a way of getting under my skin and then getting exactly what he wanted.

“She doesn’t have any good news for us, hence the meeting,” he replied, any teasing in his voice replaced by frustration.

“Ah,” was all I could say, the rest of the questions would have to wait for later.

The rest of the drive was in silence, both a relief and worry. The news must be that bad if Rhys quit flirting with me to brood instead. I didn’t let myself decide if I was happy or not about that.

I started to recognize the buildings near the compound. Another shipping yard appeared in front of us, this one a bit smaller and looked to be owned by a private company.

Sunday night it had been too dark and I had been too distracted by Rhys to take in many details when Cas drove me home. Now I could see a sign at the entrance to the yard.

_Starlight Carriers_

Once we entered the perimeter, Rhys turned right and rolled down his windows. A few presses on a number pad had one of the bigger and wider containers opening up, allowing him to drive through.

Rhys must have noticed my analyzing gaze. “The top half of our compound is actually inside the containers, forming a network of hallways and rooms. Most of the above-ground stuff is rooms for our men and supplies. The kitchen, training rooms, infirmary, and garage are all below ground.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. I knew he and his family had money but this… this was wealth beyond what I thought.

Reading the look on my face, “The underground part was already here, some basement levels of an old building. The shipping containers were Cas’s idea. From there, it was a matter of a few weeks to get everything set up and electricity and water to where we need it. We may have money, but we don’t see the point in spending it recklessly. Most of it goes towards paying the men,” he finished with a shrug.

“Tell that to the K98 sniper rifle I saw on your wall,” arching an eyebrow at him.

“You know your guns,” he sounded shocked, good.

“I have to,” was my only response.

“Well, who doesn’t like to splurge every now and then,” he admitted. I gave him a noncommittal hum. This was getting too close to flirting territory again.

When he parked by Cas’s SUV, I got out before he attempted to open my door again. Giving him a pointed glance, he turned and started towards a different door than what we went through a few nights ago. A short flight of stairs later and we were in a large room where the others waited.

The far end was dominated by several TV screens playing various news shows and… one cartoon was playing. Somehow, I knew that Cas was behind that.

“Good, you’re here,” Amren said shortly, that was all the greeting I got from her. She really was in a fine mood.

Trying to break the tension between Rhys and I with distance, I moved to the other side of the room to sit with Mor. Not an extremely dramatic move with how much she and I had been texting, but hopefully enough of a line in the sand for him to read.

A mistake, as it turns out because that left the seat directly across from me open which meant that Rhys would either be directly in my eye line or just in the corner of it.

_Focus on Amren and the meeting will be over soon._

It turns out that focusing on Amren wasn’t a problem. The news wasn’t good.

“Amarantha knows we’re here.”

That sentence alone set off a chorus of curse words. Based on Sunday night’s event, we had already guessed as much, but it was confirmed now.

Amren continued on, “We still don’t know what was in Sunday’s shipment, but based upon the movement of the men we’ve marked as hers, it’s most likely the bioweapons we’ve been waiting on.” This time, the room was silent. This was the bad news that they’ve been waiting for. A collective noose tightened around our necks.

“We need to find that shipment,” that was Cas, his mind already spinning with ideas.

“I’ve had tails on her men for days, they’re too well trained,” Az said softly, his usual cold mask cracking with a hint of frustration. “Even I can’t follow them,” a harsh admission.

“Someone will slip up,” Mor said, firm in her belief that a break will come.

“We can’t count on that,” Rhys said with an apologetic glance to her and Az, “We need to make a plan of action _now._ ”

“How do you track someone that’s untraceable?” I mused, not realizing that I said it out loud. As a detective, I had to get creative to find who I was looking for. You think it would be easier given that everyone and their mother has a cell phone, but that has just made people more creative. I broke out of my thoughts, realizing that everyone was looking at me.

“What?” I asked, getting an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

“How much do you know about Stingrays?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes sparking with hope.

“I’m guessing you’re not asking about the animal,” I said flatly. I knew exactly what he was talking about. A Stingray was a device that can mimic cell phone towers to get phones to connect to them, therefore allowing the police to learn the phone's location and then track them. It was new and high tech and so, so, _so_ illegal if I tried to access them without anyone else knowing. My precinct was the only one in the city who had access to them. “No.”

“We need access to them.”

“If by some miracle no one ever finds out that I helped y’all, then me trying to access the Stingrays will _definitely_ get me fired, probably in jail.”

“If you can get us access to the Stingrays, then we’ll be able to find out who was there on that night, and then it would be easy to track their phones to where they’re all hiding,” Rhys explained, a pleading tone creeping into his voice. He probably didn’t even notice that his eyes had gone slightly like a puppy dog. _Handsome bastard._

“Even if I wanted to, I would need a tech to help me work them, and there’s no one on the force I would trust to help me.”

“Cassian can help you,” Rhys gestured to him. I must have had a surprised look on my face. Cas had a talented mind for tactics and leading men, but technology would not have been my first or last guess.

Cas shot me a lazy grin, “What? You thought I was just a pretty face? Had I not been on the run from Amarantha, I could have gotten into any tech school I wanted.”

I gave him an impressed look, “Let me think about it.”

“We’re losing time as it is,” Amren hissed, silent until now.

“Take a few days, how about Saturday?” Rhys suggested, ignoring Amren. An action that earned him a look that said he should sleep with one eye open tonight.

“No, sorry, I can’t do Saturday.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to my boss's wedding.” A flash of amusement crosses his face and then disappeared. I decided not to waste the brainpower it would take to decode it; with Rhys it could mean anything.

“You need a date?” he asked, humor tingeing his voice.

I gave him my most sarcastic glare, “Yeah, I should definitely bring Velaris’s most wanted crime lord to my police captain's wedding.”

The tension in the room dissolved after that, everyone letting out a laugh, or in Amren’s and Az’s case, a small chuckle.

With a possible plan in the future, the meeting ended. Mor offering to drive me home. I almost turned to Rhys, asking if that was okay, but I stopped myself. It would be good to put that distance between us, especially when he offered to be my wedding date and a vision of him in a tux filled my mind. Asking him about Illyria could come later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the concept for part of the compound from a WebToon comic called Blood Ink. If you don’t have the WebToon app, I highly recommend downloading it! It’s absolutely full of free comics that are spectacular (Lore Olympus, Let’s Play, The Wrath and the Dawn to name a few).


	13. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ahem* this is basically a porn with minimal plot chapter so read on if you dare ;)

Music streamed from hidden speakers, filling the chapel with the light sound of a string quartet, the song unfamiliar but graceful. Fitting to the woman in white that glided down the aisle.

Leana looked like a queen with her head held high and strawberry blonde hair tumbling from underneath her veil. Her green eyes shone with love and unshed tears as she beheld Helion at the end of her journey, himself looking like a king in his black suit. By the time she reached the end, tears had managed to escape the couple’s eyes as they focused on only each other, likely missing every word the minister said.

Lucien and I had arrived early to help set up the last of the decorations. Occasionally, we had to run interference for the bride and groom when the minutes ticking down to the ceremony were too slow. Laughing and shoving them away from where they would intercept, it was too easy to forget the loom of Amarantha and a certain violet-eyed crime lord.

Because Lucien and I were close to the captain and his soon to be wife, we were awarded seats behind the families for our hard work. It was easy to see the love and commitment flow between the two. What was hard was that feeling of loneliness that peeked over Lucien’s and I’s shoulder as we had both gone stag to the wedding. Whatever Lucien had with Vassa was still too new and untested to warrant him bringing her and despite some dark, little thoughts in my mind, I wisely forwent bringing Rhys as my date. _That_ would have been a poor choice.

The ceremony lasted all of ten minutes, short, sweet and to the point. Although the kiss that followed was anything but.

The newlyweds walked down the aisle, their smiles shining brighter than the sun. Applause and cheers drowned out any music that might have been played.

Lucien and I didn’t share any words, too caught up in the joy of the moment. The rest of the wedding party filed out, off to take pictures before the couple snuck away for a private moment. Or moments.

People started trickling out of the back of the chapel to the reception hall where drinks were already flowing and hors d'oeuvres were laid out. Helion and Leana had spared no cost at the wedding, both of them in the prime of the careers where money wasn’t an object. Lucien had managed to dig out an old suit from somewhere and looked rather dashing. I, on the other hand, spent weeks sifting through secondhand stores until I found a gown that could have been from the 1920s but in amazing shape. Even with my rudimentary sewing skills, I had fixed up any loose seams and hemmed up the sleeves to make the style more modern. I was lucky that hadn’t gotten any blood on it with how often I pricked my fingers.

It started as a deep blue at the hem, melting into a crystal white at the bodice. Even though someone thought to get rid of the dress, they had still taken good care of it shown by how many of the sewn-on crystals were still there, only needed to be touched up in a few places.

The real crowning glory of the dress was the back. It dipped low to where it sat just above the small of my back, letting cool air brush against it. Lucien had let out a whistle when he saw it and then immediately teased me about how I was unable to get a date so someone can actually appreciate it. That comment earned him a punch.

By this point, my bruises had faded enough that makeup covered them easily, but I still had to wear low heels to avoid limping by the end of the night.

Just before we reached the arching doors of the reception hall, a flash of raven dark hair caught my attention but by the time I had turned, there was nothing to be seen. _Just your imagination. Your horny, ridiculous imagination._

More music greeted us in the big hall, this time from a real string quartet that plucked out all the classics.

“Man,” I murmured to Lucien, “Helion wanted this wedding _classy_.” He chuckled at my comment.

“Yeah, you don’t see that nowadays except in our favorite romcoms.” I let out a snicker at that. It was getting close to another movie night with Lucien and I needed to dig something up for us to watch. It was almost shameful the number of movies we had watched together and now had to resort to reruns or obscure indie films.

We had almost reached the refreshments table, my stomach growling, when a midnight voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

“Goddammit, I _know_ he’s not right behind me.” I fumed as Lucien shot me _a look_. I turned on my heel, coming face to face with Rhysand Noc and a pretty blonde on his arm. Had my anger not been burning through any other feelings, I might have noticed how his three-piece black suit fit him in all the right places. How the lighting of the hall deepened the purple of his eyes. How his lips were— _stop it right now, Feyre Archeron._

Lucien had turned too and his hand went right for his hips where usually his gun would be, but since we were at a wedding, it was in bad taste to bring one.

“Rhysand Noc,” I said coldly, letting my anger flow through my words, “What are you doing here?”

 _Wrong question to ask,_ I thought as his grin grew into a smile. “Miss Ashwood here was lamenting to me the other night that she had a wedding to go to but no date. I was all too happy to offer to go with her.” The blonde smiled up at him, either oblivious as to who she had on her arm or was too enamored by him to care.

Choices flashed through my mind, each worse than the rest. If Rhys stayed here, he would run into no shortage of cops or Helion himself, which would ruin the wedding for him. Arresting him would make a scene that would be none too pretty. Perhaps I could bribe him to leave early, but my only bargaining chip was getting access to those Stingrays and I hadn’t made a decision on them yet.

Grinding my teeth, it was all I could do to turn my back and pretend he wasn’t there. Even if it was Helion’s wedding day, I wouldn’t make a move without consulting him first. Maybe he would let it slide and deal with it later. For now, he deserved to be happy. Rhys loved striking every single one of my nerves but hopefully, he had enough decorum to not make too much trouble at a wedding. Especially when surrounded by cops.

Ignoring the crime lord at my back, I followed the line for food, filling my plate with various snacks. Lucien looked inclined to turn around and drag Rhys out by his collar, but one warning glance from me had him facing forward. This was something we needed to discuss _away_ from the bastard.

Grabbing a glass of champagne, I scanned the room for an empty table, preferably one in a corner where Lucien and I could plan to get Rhys _out_. Rhys, however, had other plans. _He_ _followed us_ to the table and sat down, keeping up his inane chatter with Miss Ashwood.

My stomach tightened with anger, ridding me of my hunger. A smile I had seen only around his family lit up his face, but it was all directed at Miss Ashwood, him not even sparing a glance at the two detectives staring daggers at him. I tried to convince myself that the anger that simmered in my veins was from Rhys daring to crash a police captain’s wedding and _not_ from seeing him with another woman. A gorgeous, airheaded woman that had him laughing.

Lucien caught my eye right as the music swelled, announcing the arrival of the husband and wife. Helion and Leana swept into the room, the glow of happiness around them. They were immediately swamped with well-wishers, a crowd that Lucien and I needed to be a part of but were unwilling to take our eyes off of the crime lord.

“What do we do?” he whispered to me, his gaze darting between Rhys and Helion, who was slowly making his way through the crowd and would soon see Velaris’s most wanted at his wedding.

“I don’t know,” I hissed back, “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

And then time ran out.

Helion’s golden eyes tripped our way, spotting his top two detectives sitting with their current suspect. An unreadable look took over his face and he murmured something in his new wife’s ear before striding towards us.

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit_ , I chanted, this would be the end of my career for sure. Rhys only looked up from his date when Helion was right upon him, an easy smile on his face. He could be greeting an old friend for all he cared.

“Helion, I believe congratulations are in order,” he drawled, twisting in his seat slightly to address the captain.

“Rhysand,” Helion returned tightly, “A bold move to see you at this wedding.” Miss Ashwood’s head whipped back and forth like she was watching a tennis tournament. It seems that she didn’t know who exactly escorted her tonight. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing Velaris’s most wanted crime lord at my wedding?” each word was barbed, sinking into Lucien’s and I’s skin.

_We’re sooooo fucked._

Miss Ashwood then blushed deeply, just now realizing what she had gotten herself into. A situation, apparently, she wanted to try to rectify. “Helion! So good to see you!” she gushed, standing to embrace him. “Rhysand here was _so_ nice to be my date tonight. You know how hard it was for me after,” she paused, looking around and then stage whispering, “ _the breakup._ ”

Helion scanned her face and then softened slightly, an old friend of his perhaps. “Yes, I’m sorry I forgot.” He looked back over to Rhys and his face hardened again. “Not one step out of line,” with a stern finger and that was that. Rhys now had an official spot at this reception.

I gaped, looking over at Lucien to see that he had a similar expression on his face. Rhys glanced over to us and laughter twinkled in his eyes. _Checkmate_ , they seemed to say.

 _This isn’t over_ , I willed mine to say right back before turning to my food to force some down my throat.

And so for the next half hour, we had to endure in sullen silence, Rhys and Miss Ashwood’s lively conversation. Which went on.

And on.

And on.

Such dull, boring, mindless subjects that I wondered how Rhys was keeping it together. Miss Ashwood seemed friendly and was certainly pretty, but there was oh-so-much small talk any one person can endure.

A reprieve eventually came in the bride and groom opening up the dance floor by having their first dance together. Rhys graciously asked Miss Ashwood to join him, giving Lucien and I a chance to follow to keep an eye on him.

The music stayed a gentle stream of waltzes, which Rhys looked _far_ too elegant doing, sweeping Miss Ashwood through all the turns flawlessly. Lucien and I on the other hand… well, we managed.

I nearly stepped on his foot when Rhys caught my eyes over his shoulder and gave me a wink. _A wink._ I was going to murder Rhys next time I saw him.

After no less than five dances, Rhys excused himself from his date and sauntered over to the entrance to the hall.

“I’ll follow,” I said to Lucien.

“Be careful,” he replied with a nod.

Trying to look like I _wasn’t_ storming off, I followed Rhys through the main entrance and down a hall that held the bathrooms and coatroom. The hallway was clear of any wedding goers, giving me the freedom to hiss, “What will it take to get you to leave?”

Rhys paused his stride, turning to face me and took a few steps forward. Here the light was dimmer, a dangerous place for me to be. Not because he would harm me, but because seeing him give Miss Ashwood little smiles all night had worn down my resolve, bringing me closer and closer to thoughts I didn’t want to have.

I pushed aside my feelings, keeping my face blank as he drew closer until our breaths mingled. “A kiss might suffice.” I nearly punched the smug look off his face right there.

“No,” the word came out breathy, not the hard sound I wanted it to be.

“No? Well, it looks like I’m not leaving, darling.”

That word. That damn word.

_Darling._

He made to turn away, but I caught his tie, dragging his lips down so I could claim them with my own.

It was then I gave up all pretense or reason. I gave up on trying to hold back. On trying to stay sane. On trying to think of anything except for how he felt against me.

I wanted Rhys in so many different ways that it was utterly _useless_ to try and convince myself otherwise.

His lips softened against mine, almost like the prick _expected_ me to react this way.

But I didn’t care. Not when he was warm and inviting and a challenge I couldn’t back down from.

His hands wrapped around my body; one going to the exposed skin of my back and the other cupping my neck. His calluses scraped along my skin, leaving fire in their wake. My hands came up to tangle in his hair, bringing him closer, closer, closer.

“We need to get out of this hallway,” I gasped to him, breaking the kiss. A wild light had entered his eyes, sending waves of heat into my core.

“Come home with me,” he growled, trailing nips and kisses down my neck. I bit down on my lip to stop the moan that rose up to meet his ministrations.

“And what about Miss Ashwood?” I hated the question as soon as it left my tongue.

“Miss Ashwood? She has plans to find her ex tonight, I was just there to make him jealous.”

At those words, I yanked his head back up and reclaimed his lips, running my tongue along the seam of them. He opened his mouth, letting me in to trace the lines of those wicked teeth.

He groaned, “Feyre, it’s either my place or the coat closet and you’ll need to stay quiet if we choose the latter, darling.”

“If I’m remembering last time correctly, I’m not the one who needs to learn how to be quiet,” I teased, my breath blowing past his ear. He shuddered, the vibration shaking me awake.

“My place then,” he said with finality, taking a healthy step back. I missed his heat immediately, feeling cold to my bones without it. “Do you need to grab your purse?”

“So considerate,” I straightened. “No, I have my keys and phone in my pockets.” He quirked an eyebrow, impressed. Another perk of this dress (besides the open back, of course), the genius behind it thought to include pockets, allowing me to forgo a purse for the night.

“Then let’s go,” he purred, stalking to the exit. Music poured from the reception hall where Lucien still waited, _shit._

I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text to him,

 ** _Feyre:_** He’s leaving, I’m following to see if I can get a lead on his base.

The response came immediately,

 ** _Lucien:_** Hold on, I’m coming with you.

_SHIT_

**_Feyre:_** No, stay, enjoy yourself, I promise I’ll stay out of trouble.

_Lie_

**_Lucien:_** Fine but call me if anything happens. I’m only staying because of the free alcohol.

 ** _Feyre:_** Lmao, I’ll text you with updates tomorrow.

I slipped my phone back in my pocket having reached Rhys’s car. He was already holding the door open, eyes sweeping up and down my body. I paused before sliding in, “See something you like?”

Heat flared in his eyes as he leaned over the door, his nose brushing my temple. “I have been staring at the back of that dress all night, darling.” I dragged my head back to meet his lust-darkened eyes before flicking my gaze down to his lips. I leaned in, almost bringing our lips together before pulling back completely and sliding into the car, satisfied by my move.

Rhys slammed the door shut and I could practically hear him growling as he walked over to the driver’s side and got in.

The drive to his apartment was tense, to say the least. The lack of words exchanged only heightened my awareness of his every breath and move. I knew he was marking the same for me, glancing over every so often.

He pulled up smoothly near his alley, parking a little way down the street. In the darkened car with only the street lamps to light the interior, the air turned tight, heavy.

Rhys heaved a breath, opening his car door. Had either of us one less ounce of self-control, we would not have made it inside. I followed suit, stepping into the chilly night air, only a fraction of the reason for the shiver that walked down my spine.

Even though it was a short walk to the front door, a heavy, warm weight settled on my shoulders, his coat. I shot him a grateful glance, feeling every bit of space still between us.

As though he couldn’t stand it anymore, he reached out his hand, twining our fingers together. A feeling of _rightness_ washed over me, settling in my soul that I was exactly where I needed to be. I didn’t let it scare me, as it should have. What we were forging together was making a complicated mess, but one that we would endure together.

Each step closer to his front door echoed in the alleyway. Each step closer was a seal on a future that was unknown to us.

Rhys produced his keys from his pocket, no once letting go of our joined hands. The lock clicked open and with a twist of his wrist, the door soon followed. Rhys tugged me into the waiting warmth and closed the door with a kick of his foot. Dropping his keys in the bowl next to it, he twined his now free hand with my other one and backed me against the cold metal. He swallowed my gasp at the chill, those lips leading me down a path to ruination.

Second, minutes, hours ticked by, all lost to that kiss. Deep and unending, a promise of what was to come but unhurried.

I ached to touch him, but he kept our hands together at our sides, stopping any movement. What little freedom I did have I used to writhe against him, groaning at any point of friction I managed.

“You’re making it very hard for me to enjoy taking my time,” Rhys growled in my ear, “If you don’t stop, I’ll put you in a position where you have no choice but to stay still.”

“You wouldn’t,” my hiss turned to a gasp as he pressed a leg between my thighs, giving me that small bit of pressure I _needed_.

“Oh, I absolutely would, darling,” the male dominance in his voice was nearly overwhelming. Every day, I had to be in charge of my life, had to be in charge of _something_ all the time, but what he offered was a yielding of that control. A jump into the unknown. I already snapped one tether tonight, another one would be nothing.

“Fine,” I breathed, the word only audible to him due to our proximity.

He pulled back then, searching my gaze. “Are you sure?” The switch from dominating to concern made my knees buckle and I only stay upright from the pressure he exerted on me.

“Yes,” sealing my answer with an urgent kiss. He then bent over to cup my ass, my dress thankfully loose enough to allow me to wrap my legs around his waist. He picked me up effortlessly, making me feel small but… protected, wanted, cared for. His coat dropped to the floor to be forgotten.

How Rhys got us to his bedroom without tripping was beyond me. I certainly didn’t make it easy on him with my roving hands and nipping teeth.

He laid me down on his bed with a gentleness that was always there just under the surface. The calm before the storm.

A storm that broke as he dragged his hands up my body, bringing the dress up with him. “Do you realize how often I wake up from dreaming about these legs and how they wrapped around me?” his hot breath brushing my neck. I could only groan my response, fumbling for the clasp at the back of my neck so that it could finally, _finally_ be off.

When the clasp snapped free, Rhys brought the edge up and over, seeing that I had forgone a bra tonight and wasted no time latching onto my nipple, rolling it between his teeth. The sharp pleasure was nearly enough to put me over the edge then and there. A wordless cry broke past my lips as I arched into his mouth, begging for _more, more, more_.

“Ah, ah, ah, not yet darling,” he chuckled darkly before moving away to his bedstand. I didn’t even bother to move, to try to cover my nearly bare body when he was still fully clothed, too focused on trying to reorder my mind.

Cool metal caressed my skin, drawing my attention to it.

Those were _handcuffs_ trailing up my body. Veritable, police-grade handcuffs.

Rhys took in every detail of my face, scanning for any sign of hesitation. “One word and I’ll put these away.” _And no judgements,_ were his unspoken words.

“No, I—,” I panted, trying to find words, “I want this. I want _you._ ” His eyes darkened even more as a sharp grin played across his face.

“Then allow me to oblige you.” One snap after another and those handcuffs were around my wrists. “Not too tight?” I shook my head ‘no’. “Darling, I need you to give me a verbal confirmation.”

I pulled at them slightly and said, “No, they’re not too tight.”

“Good,” he purred, helping me move my body closer to the headboard where a small chain was hooked around the middle and refastened to the headboard. A detail that had escaped me that first damning night. His hand trailed down my face, gripping my chin to force me to look him in the eye. “Remember, one word and I’ll release you. Tell me to stop and I will listen.”

“Yes, _prick_ ,” I hissed, impatient at every delay.

“Maybe I’ll just leave you here to suffer, instead.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, but not tonight,” he started to slide down my body, leaving a trail of searing kisses as he went, “Not when I’ve been waiting so long to have you at my,” he dragged one finger right down my center, taking my underwear with it, eliciting a cry from my lips, “ _mercy_.”

I shifted my hips, cursing when he drew away. “Stop moving or I’ll drag this out even longer.” The order was laced with dominance. I willed myself to try and stay still against the pounding need between my legs. “Good.” As a reward, his head dipped lower, hot breath fanning over me. He swiped one, torturously long lick up my opening, growling with pleasure at how wet I already was. How wet I was _for him_.

I strained against the handcuffs, loving and hating their grip. Wishing I could touch Rhys, touch myself to finally bring about the end but their cool embrace never lessened. The lack of control should have thrown me into a panic but instead, my arousal only grew and grew at the restraint, the uncertainty.

Again, I was brought so close to that edge I wanted to tumble over, but Rhys stayed in a slow steady pace of licks, each one designed to tease me, to draw this out as long as possible. Somehow, he knew each time I got too close and he back off, pressing kisses to my inner thighs until I backed down again.

“ _Rhys,_ ” I groaned, “ ** _Please_**.”

“As you wish,” he pushed one finger into me while closing his mouth over that little bundle of nerves.

I screamed.

I screamed with a force and passion that I thought was only read about in trashy romance novels.

My back arched, metal biting into my wrists but the pain was far off.

Waves and waves of pleasure crashed through my body, as hot and unending as the universe. Black and white stars flashed before my closed eyes; pants barely managed to bring much-needed oxygen into my body. All throughout my orgasm, Rhys was there, licking and stroking and sucking. _Enjoying_ what he could do to my body.

“ _Rhys,_ ” his name was a prayer on my lips, an offering of thanks to whatever god had put him on this earth. Not that I would ever admit that to him, but _holy fucking shit,_ this man would be the end to me.

He looked up from where he was between my thighs, my juices gleaming in the low light, and that sight nearly put me over the edge again. I didn’t even care that a self-satisfied grin was on his face.

He crawled back up my body, capturing me in a kiss that had me melting all over again. The taste of me on his lips was intoxicating. He broke the kiss off, eyes rising to take in my wrists. Pain had started to distantly flash in them, but it was still overwhelmed by pleasure. Unhappiness darkened his face and he gripped my chin in his hand. “You should have told me that you were in pain.”

“I wasn’t,” I said earnestly, forcing my mind to put words into a correct order, “At least, not until the end.”

He growled and reached for the key that sat waiting on the bedside table. Unlocking them, he took them gently in his hands, rubbing soft, soothing circles on the red marks. “We’ll have to find a solution to that.”

“Rogue,” but the insult was half-hearted. I couldn’t muster any bite after the ordeal he just put my body through. I took my hands from his grip and slipped them into his hair, pulling him down onto me. The cloth of his shirt scraped against my sensitive skin, causing me to slip my hands down his neck and over his chest to unbutton it.

His hands gripped my forearms, avoiding my wrists, and moved my hands away from his body, breaking our kiss at the same time. “Are you sure you want to go on? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yes, Rhys, I swear I’m fine,” nearly containing the whine that wanted to slip into my voice, “The pain is already fading.”

He searched my eyes and found the truth in them. He released my hands, allowing them to return to their task. Inch by inch his smooth skin appeared, lovingly decorated with those beautiful tattoos. My fingers traced their whorls as I pushed his shirt over his shoulders and deposited on the ground next to my dress. His pants soon followed. I palmed his length, feeling the hardness that waited for me.

Rhys broke our kiss again, pressing his forehead into my shoulder, groaning. I smirked, glad to be the one causing his pleasure. I toyed with the edge of his underwear, teasing him for as long as he would allow me.

Which wasn’t long at all. He overtook my hands, finally stripping him bare. My mouth went dry at the thick length. Wrapping a hand around that velvet coated steel, I gave him one, slow stroke, an answer to his from before.

The last of his self-control snapped. Strong hands gripped my waist, flipping us over until I was on top, poised over him.

One last question shone in his face. I answered by guiding him to my entrance and slowly, _slowly_ took him in. Pressure built but I took every damned inch of him until I was fully seated, taking a moment to allow us to adjust. Rhys had screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to last a little while longer.

I reached forward and gripped his chin. “Eyes on me,” I demanded as I began my ascent. He managed to crack open his eyes and held my gaze. Bruising hands gripped my hips, following the motions of my body. Over and over, up and down, I rode him to a slow pace, savoring every point of contact between us.

That slow pace soon quickened, our movements becoming heated and frenzied. I slammed on to him again and again, keeping one hand on his chest while the other rolled over my clit, bringing me closer to that climax.

“Feyre,” he moaned my name, “ _Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre, Feyre,_ ” as much as a prayer as mine was. His grip tightening was my only warning. I slammed down a final time as we free-fell over that edge together. He roared, the vibrations traveling into my body as we both found our release.

Minutes passed by as we stayed there, him buried in me and I stayed upright on shaking arms braced on either side of his chest. Sweat slipped by and pooled, sticky and cooling. Our breaths mingling in the air between us.

Finally, our eyes cracked open, meeting in the middle. A silly grin played on his lips which was soon mirrored by my own. A chuckle rasped out of my chest and was echoed by his.

What we were smiling and laughing about in this afterglow? I didn’t know. Maybe it was the impossibility of a crime lord and detective being together. Maybe it was how the threat of Amarantha had brought us together, two halves of one soul meeting through impossible odds.

Whatever the reason for our smiles, I didn’t care. Not when there we so many other things we could be doing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmmmm, surprise BDSM? I gave y’all a thick chapter bc I need some time to think on where I want this story to go. Obviously, I’m not going to abandon it, but it might be a few weeks before I post again. I have some one shots I want to write that I hope will get the creative juices flowing. Love y’all!


	14. Rhysand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *checks calendar* *eyes boggle out as I see the date and then see when I last posted*  
> Hi guys! Thank you for your patience! I went back through my story and made a few, very minor changes (grammar mostly), but for continuity’s sake I changed a bit of Rhys’s back story in Chapter 3 to make it match Chapter 11’s wiki article. If you’ve been following the story pretty well, there’s no reason to go back and reread it (unless you’re just that obsessed lol). Again, I’m so sorry for the long wait, I didn’t think it would be this long of a gap. I got busy with work and life and then this chapter didn’t want to write itself :)  
> Love y’all lots and enjoy!

_“I’ll do it.”_

Those were the words that Feyre spoke to me hours ago.

_There was a warmth pressed up against me._

_It smells like home…_

_My mind slowly rose to waking, sifting through sensations until I finally opened my eyes to see the most beautiful sight. Golden brown hair splayed across my pillows. Freckled cheeks only a scant few inches from mine. Blue-gray eyes that held so many possibilities._

_I let out a low hum, tightening the arm that already encircled Feyre’s waist, drawing her closer. My eyes slid closed again as I buried my nose into the crook of her neck. I muttered something that sounded close to “good morning” and relaxed my body so I could slide back into sleep._

_She huffed a laugh against my hair. “Good morning to you too.” Her voice was still rough with sleep but already tinged with humor. “Rhys, I said I’ll do it. I’ll get Cas access to the Stingrays.”_

_Oh. Right._

_Her words were enough to shake me awake._

_“You will?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed and face pressed to her neck, so the words were slightly muffled._

_“Yes, we need to stop Amarantha.”_

_I opened my eyes now but not yet willing to look at her yet. A feeling of deja vu washed over me. “And you’re sure this doesn’t have anything to do with us being in the same bed? Because the last time that happened, you agreed to join us. I’m sensing a pattern here.”_

_“Rhys,” my name on her lips was a soft request. I looked up at her now. Those gorgeous eyes were intense but honest. “I’m not making this decision because we slept together again. I’m making this decision because we need to protect the citizens of this city and this country.” Her mouth then quirked up into a mischievous grin that made my blood heat. “Sleeping together was just a happy coincidence.”_

_She then slid her fingers into my hair, tangling them there and tugging my mouth to meet hers. The kiss was slow and sleepy, a promise that we have all the time in the world._

“Earth to Rhys.” Fingers snapped in front of my face, bringing me back to the present. Snickers filled the conference room, mostly from Mor and Cas, the latter being the one who forced me out of my recent memories.

“Sorry,” I muttered, the tips of my ears burning red. I shifted in my chair and brought my focus back to the screen which displayed photos of Feyre’s police precinct.

“Time to think with your head, not your dick,” Cas lectured, taking on an air of superiority that we all _knew_ was hypocritical.

Amren rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to make a comment that would surely derail us. Azriel mercifully intervened and said “The Stingray’s can be accessed from the third story computer lab. We need Feyre to find out how many technicians are in there and at what times.”

“How soon do you think she can get us in?” Amren asked.

I drummed my fingers on the table, contemplating. “She went in this morning to see how busy it is on the weekends. If anyone asks why she’s there, she’ll just say that she’s filing a report on me after following me from the wedding.” Cas opened his mouth again to make another comment but was silenced with a sharp kick from Mor. At this point, there was no hiding that Feyre and I were involved. If she didn’t already get along so well with my family, I would have to prepare her for the endless teasing and harassment.

My phone buzzed, flashing _Darling_ as a message came through.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear,” I announced, opening my phone.

 ** _Darling:_** Looks like the weekends are pretty slow even with everyone hunting you down. Only two technicians in the computer lab and the third floor is mostly empty.

 ** _Prick:_** Sounds good

 ** _Prick:_** Any ideas on how to get Cas in there?

 ** _Darling:_** A few… none that he will like though

I relayed the information to the others, earning a scoff from Cas and a muttered, “We’ll see about that.” I only arched an eyebrow and typed a response.

 ** _Prick:_** He says he’s up for it, when can we plan this?

 ** _Darling:_** I’m almost finished up here, so I’ll come to the compound to help plan

 ** _Prick:_** Do you need a ride? It’s a bit far of a commute

 ** _Darling:_** Sure, I’ll take the train to main and 6th and you can pick me up there

 ** _Prick:_** Meet there in 20 minutes?

 ** _Darling:_** Perfect, thank you :)

 ** _Prick:_** Anytime darling

 ** _Darling:_** I rescind my thank you

Another stupid smile crawled onto my face, bringing about another round of snickers.

I gave my best glare at Mor and Cas, but it was too hard to maintain. “She’s almost done at the precinct and will come here to help plan.”

I rose from the table to make my way to the garage when Amren’s voice stopped me.

“Are you sure you want her to stay involved in this?”

I turned on my heel, an incredulous look taking over my features. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I?” truly confused as to where this was coming from.

Amren wasn’t fazed, “Sleeping with a cop is one thing, having her help plan raids is another, but that has all been off base. Now she is sneaking us into one of the top precincts in the city to help us gain access to highly controlled technology. If she wasn’t going to face jail time before, if we get caught, she surely will now. Her career, her life? Over.”

Her words settled like a cold rock in my chest. By the looks over the others, they had the same feeling. Feyre hadn’t been working with us for very long, but they had already accepted her as part of the family.

“Feyre knows the risks,” I started slowly, “She’s known the risks the whole time. It’s always been up to her with how much she’s been involved.”

Amren still didn’t look convinced. “This doesn’t have to be her fight.”

“Like hell it does,” my blood heated. Molten steel poured into my spine as I drew my shoulders back and widened my stance as though I was preparing for a fight. Az and Cas sensed how hostile the energy in the room had gotten. Both shifted in their seats, ready to spring into action if Amren and I came to blows. “This is her country. This is _her city_. You want her to suddenly stop investigating the plans of a tyrant? To forget everything she learned and simply continue with life? Do you think she would be able to do that? Do _you_ think you would be able to do that?” My voice had become cold and unrecognizable. That cold rock in my chest had thawed and melted in a fire that burned and raged.

“No, I don’t think I could,” Amren looked away, her voice soft. It was rare for her to show this kind of vulnerability, but we had all lost a home. We had all lost family and friends to Amarantha. We would all be **_damned_** if we stood by to watch her do it to another county.

I turned and walked out the door, this time without interruption. However, Amren’s words echoed around in my head.

It wasn’t Feyre’s fault she got involved in this, it was mine.


	15. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so I wrote this chapter like immediately after posting the last one and would have written more if my computer hadn’t need to update. It’s nice getting through my writer’s block!

_Come on, Rhys, it’s starting to get fucking_ freezing _out here._

Fall in Velaris was tricky. The city couldn’t seem to decide whether to give up on summer or skip right to winter. The cold snap that started on Friday decided to last the weekend and temperatures were starting to plummet as the sun slipped behind the buildings.

The cold wind that whipped by made me wish for my toasty bed. Or Rhys’s bed.

Now _that_ was a thought I allowed myself to have now. Memories from the night before forced their way in, but this time I did nothing to stop them. How right it felt to be between his arms. How right it felt to wake up in them. The way I caught him looking at me when he thought I was distracted, making me feel like I was the most important thing in the world despite everything else going on.

A small smile crept its way onto my face and for once, I allowed it to stay there. A smile that bloomed when a familiar sedan pulled up by the curb.

Two quick steps forward had me yanking open the car door and slipping into the warm interior. I turned, the bright “hey” dying on my lips when I saw Rhys’s expression.

“What happened?” my mind racing through all the terrible possibilities that might have occurred in the thirty minutes since we had texted. Maybe I missed a message when I was underground on the train.

Rhys said nothing as he pulled out into the late afternoon traffic, causing my dread to grow.

“Rhys, what happened?” I asked again, laying a hand on the arm that rested in his lap. I could feel his muscles tense beneath the sleeve. His gaze stayed firmly on the road ahead, so at odds from only this morning when it never seemed to leave me.

“Rhysand,” I with the force and command of a decorated detective, tightening my hand. His full name seemed to finally get his attention as he let out a tight sigh.

“Are you…” he hesitated, showing uncharacteristic indecisiveness. “Are you sure you want to keep helping us?” The words were quiet and weary, like they weighed not just on his tongue, but his heart.

Had it not been for his tone, I would have snapped at him that it was a bit too late for me to reconsider. “Rhys, where is this coming from?” I asked with equal softness.

He had yet to look at me, even as we came to a stop at a red light. The harsh hue of the car’s in front of us taillights highlighted the slight bags under his eyes and aged his face. “Amren.”

The word confused me. Every time I saw the small women, she had been intimidating but not unwelcoming or hostile. “Amren,” I repeated, the disbelief clear in my voice.

“We were meeting about the Stingrays and right as I was about to leave to pick you up, she asked me if I was sure if I wanted you to stay involved with us.” _With me_ , I almost heard the words tacked on.

Again, I wanted to let my anger bubble up, but Rhys looked so… _concerned_.

He continued, “She said that it was one thing for you to help us plan a raid or for us to sleep together, but now… now we’re asking you to sneak us into a police precinct and access highly protected technology. The risks of being caught before were low. You were careful whenever you visited one of our places or the compound and we knew there wouldn’t be any patrols in the area the night of the docks raid. But this?” he let out another tight breath and my heart squeezed at the look of anguish on his face. “If you get caught with a wanted gang member hacking into restricted tech, your career and life would be _over_.” That word made the knot that had formed in my chest freeze over.

He was right. About all of it.

What I would be doing would mean I could spend the next few _decades_ in jail. I would most likely lose whatever friends and family I had. And when I finally got out, so many job paths would be closed off to me.

“I won’t say that I don’t care about all of that,” I started slowly. “It’s not like I don’t know the risks.”

Rhys’s eyes finally flickered to briefly meet mine before refocusing on the road. We were almost out of the main city center and reaching the warehouse district.

“Like I said this morning, I’m not doing this because we slept together. I’m doing this to protect my city _and to avenge your country._ ” He shuddered beneath my hand. “Amarantha must be stopped. The world may not realize who she really is, but we do. And if we let another city, another country, another _life_ fall prey to her, then that is innocent blood on our hands. Amren is right to be concerned for me, you can be too, but I continue to stay and help you and your family because it is the right thing to do. If we succeed in stopping her but still get caught, I will go to jail with a clear conscience.”

The streets outside the window had turned quiet, most of the businesses out here were closed for the weekend. Rhys came to a stop sign but didn’t go through even with the empty streets. He turned to me; those blue eyes lightened by the ray of sun that made it through the tall structures. They were heartbreakingly clear and full of an emotion I didn’t want to admit I saw. He reached forward, cupping my face in the palm of his hand. The gesture was familiar and tender. I allowed my body to relax into the touch, soaking in his warmth against my chilled cheek.

Rhys leaned forward, drawing me in with him. Our lips brushed in the barest definition of a kiss. My eyes fluttered shut, simply enjoying the moment. We knew the kiss was a comfort for us, a reminder that we were here together.

“Ok,” he breathed against my mouth.

“Ok.” I pressed my lips against his, savoring the new tether of trust and understanding between us.

He pulled back all too soon, but his hand migrated from my face to my hand, lacing our fingers together. We spent the rest of the drive to the compound in silence, soaking in my words.

I had meant every single one. What we were doing wasn’t without its risks, but if we could succeed in stopping the mad queen, it would all be worth it.

Rhys entered the compound parking garage, pulling up beside Cas’s SUV. He turned off the ignition but made no move to untangle our hands. I turned my body slightly to face him, taking in the strong lines of his side profile. It had been weeks since I had last had the time to paint or draw. Official police work kept me busy during the day and then my illicit activities with Rhys and his family took up my nights. But sitting in the darkened car with only the garage lights illuminating the interior, it made my fingers itch with the need to pick up a pencil or brush and capture the man beside me.

Rhys mirrored my body, drawing us close against so that our elbows rested on the center console, our faces only inches from each other.

“You ready, darling?” he asked quietly, most of the earlier tension gone from his voice.

“Cas is _really_ going to hate me after this,” I let out a quiet chuckle. His lips split into a small grin, mischief lighting his eyes.

“You want to give me a sneak preview?”

“That would ruin my dramatic reveal,” I laughed louder this time.

Rhys pouted, “I thought being dramatic was my thing.”

With his lower lip, he looked exactly like a kicked puppy, but it did nothing to sway me. “The sooner we get out of this car, the sooner you’ll learn what I have in store.”

His grin sharpened as he closed the distance between us. “And what if I don’t want to leave?” his voice dropping into a husky tone.

My pulse quickened as I flicked my gaze down to his lips and then back to his eyes. “Are you sure your curiosity can wait?” my own voice had dropped to an almost embarrassing whisper.

My answer can in the form of a searing kiss, him twisting further in his seat to eliminate whatever space was left. My gasp was swallowed by him. I sank my teeth into his lower lip, eliciting a groan from him. My free hand came up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, savoring their smooth texture beneath my fingertips.

Seconds or minutes were lost to us until our bodies became too cramped trying to hold the awkward position over the console. We broke apart, both of our breaths coming in small pants. I reluctantly slipped my hair from his hair and leaned back in my seat so my damn muscles would stop trembling.

“That good huh, darling?” his words were teasing but sounded as though he had just sprinted ten blocks.

“Shut up, prick,” I barked out, the harsh word completely softened by my smile. His answering one nearly made me bring us back together.

“Let’s go see how many different shades of red we can get Cas’s face to turn with your plan,” Rhys said, reluctantly letting our hands fall apart.

My eyes flashed with excitement. “Yes, let’s.”


	16. Feyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that in all my major stories (i.e. Chasing Tails), I have to plan a heist? I swear I’m not that good at it.

“Hey, Cas,” I called when I sauntered in the room, Rhys’s shoulder nearly brushing mine, “How afraid of heights are you?”

He looked over at the two of us and our close proximity, smirking at whatever he saw there. “I do pretty alright,” he said with a shrug.

“And what about tight spaces?”

That was when the shit-eating grin dropped off his face and turned white. I looked at Rhys and muttered, “I thought you said he was going to turn different shades of red, not become Casper the Friendly Ghost.”

“Cassian will face down Death himself with a smile on his face, but when it comes to small spaces…” he trailed off, his gaze drifting back over to where Cas was trying, and failing, to plaster any expression other than sheer terror onto his face.

“What—,” Cas rasped, the cleared his throat, glaring at Mor who had started snickering, “What do you need me to do?” His eyes darted around the room like an escape hatch would magically appear.

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes—,” the answer came out as a squeak, not really answering my question. Mor had gone from snickering to full-blown peals of laughter. Amren was the one to shut her up with a hard squeeze on her shoulder and a whisper in her ear. Mor’s laugh died in her throat and she went white herself. Some instinct told me that I didn’t want to know what Amren said.

“Is there someone else who can work the technology?” I asked, barely turning to Rhys, lowering my voice so that Cas wouldn’t overhear. The man was quickly turning into the older brother I never had, but his reaction didn’t really inspire the confidence needed to infiltrate a police precinct.

“Cas is the best we have…” he trailed off again, looking at the man in question who was starting to gather himself.

“I can do it,” Cas said, finally finding his voice and wits. “What do you need me to do?”

I scanned his face, still finding the fear there but deeply hidden. Taking a seat across the table from him, I studied the wooden surface, thinking through what I had come up with. Rhys took the seat beside me, an arm casually draping across the back of my chair. I tried not to focus on the little gesture too much, instead, visualizing the precinct. “On the roof, there is a vent for the garbage chute, you’ll need to remove the grate and shimmy down to the third floor, two levels down. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but you should be fine.” At those words, Cas swallowed hard but nodded, his gaze also trained on the table. I continued, “From there, you’ll climb out and go right and around the corner, then take the first door on the left, that’s the tech room.”

“What about cameras?” Az asked.   
“Cas will be able to do whatever he needs to do to remove himself from the tapes from that room, we store everything on a centralized system.” Cas let out a little snort and muttered “Amateurs,” a good sign that he was returning to his normal self.

“And how will you get the techs out?” Amren drawled from the seat she had taken at the end of the table.

“I checked the schedule and there is only one working the late shift on Sunday nights. That’s usually our slowest night and the station will be pretty quiet overall. I was hoping that Cas could give me a virus or something to upload to my computer which will lead me to ask the tech to fix it. How long do you need?” directing the question to him.

Cassian drummed his fingers on the table, leaning back to look at the ceiling. His lips formed silent words as his eyes flicked back and forth. “Twenty minutes, maybe a half-hour if your system is actually decent.”

I nodded again, walking through the plan in my mind, trying to think of all the things that may go wrong.

“How will you excuse you being there so late?” Rhys asked, his fingertips drawing absent-minded patterns on my shoulder. I suppressed a shiver and said, “Everyone there used to me working odd hours when I’m on a case. Since I haven’t put much work into investigating you all, I can explain it that way. I’ll upload the virus at midnight and have the tech out of the room no later than 12:10.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Mor shrugged, prompting a round of chuckles to sweep the room.

“On paper,” Cassian grumbled, still not looking too happy that he’ll have to face his fear of tight spaces.

“Can we do it tonight?” Amren asked, and then added on, “Time is running short.” Surprise washed through my system. I was anticipating this happening in a week, when we had more time to think of backups should something happen. My shock was mirrored in the others, they were thinking the same thing. Rhys’s fingers came to a halt on my shoulder, drawing my attention to him. Glancing over, his face had become drawn and distant, most likely thinking of our earlier conversation.

“If Cassian is ready, we can do it tonight,” I forced strength into my voice, reassurance that I was committed to the plan.

The others looked to me, gauging the steadiness of my voice and finding it acceptable. Az and Cas nodded to each other, whatever that meant.

“I’ll start preparations, we can leave at midnight,” Cas was up and out of his seat, off to wherever he needed to be to ready his supplies. It was nearing eight in the evening, giving him just over four hours to shove his fear into a little box and find a virus that would temporarily knock out my computer. He breezed out of the room, his quick steps fading down the hall.

We all sat there for a moment, absorbing in the enormity of what was going to happen tonight. If we succeeded, the Stingrays would give us the information needed to track down Amarantha’s men from last week and possibly lead us where her base was in the city.

If we failed….

Well

That was something I didn’t want to think about.

At that point, my stomach growled, offering a much-needed distraction from the weight that was ready to crush everyone in the room. A slight blush dusted my cheeks. I hadn’t had anything to eat since I left Rhys’s apartment this morning.

“Hungry?” he asked me, humor tinting his voice.

“A little,” I admitted.

“I’ll find something in the kitchen,” he offered, standing with a slight groan and held his hand out to me. I slipped mine in, marveling at how natural it felt.

“I’m coming too only because I’m starving but I swear to the Cauldron if y’all start making out,” she threatened with a complex flurry of hand motions that I didn’t even try to decipher.

I let Rhys’s hand go and sidled up to Mor’s side, linking her arm with mine. “You have no need to worry Mor, Rhys will be too busy cooking _us_ something while we raid the liquor cabinet.” I cast a glance over my shoulder, “Right, _darling_?” Throwing his favorite pet name back at him.

He recovered quickly, grinning at my words, “Whatever the ladies desire,” he purred with an extravagant bow, causing Mor and I to snicker at him.

I let Mor lead me to the kitchen, trying to think of the food ahead and not the possible looming disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind and excited comments! They prompt me to open up my laptop and keep writing <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out my other works! I like them!  
> (Also I may or may not be obsessed with Cop!AUs)


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